


First Time He Kissed A Boy

by shamelessllamapeanutthing



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Being Bros, Break Up, But He's Learning, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Depression, Fluff, Hockey Player Victor Nikiforov, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, I am fucking with the ages cause it's my AU, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Make Up, Phichit Is The Best Friend Yuuri Could Ask For, Slow Burn, Smut, Victor Nikiforov Needs a Hug, Victor's parents suck, Yurio has a crush on yuuri, Yuuri doesn't stand for anybody's shit, homophobic Victor, jerk Victor, might add more tags idk, phichuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamelessllamapeanutthing/pseuds/shamelessllamapeanutthing
Summary: Another AU in which Victor has a thing for Yuuri's tight fucking ass (and kind fucking heart), and frustration for the years of internalised homophobia that won't let him (win said heart.)
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti, Phichit Chulanont/Lee Seung Gil
Comments: 81
Kudos: 227





	1. Catching Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, this AU is a motherfucking pain in my ass and I love it. 
> 
> Also, I have a whole playlist dedicated to it, so if any of y'all want the link just lmk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Victor's theme song for this chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLOeafl-ORk)

Had Victor known how important that day was going to be, he’d have done things differently _._

_(But you know what they say about hindsight… that it’s a cruel, mocking bitch and friend to no one.)_

One of the fluorescents in the ceiling was blinking overhead, distracting Victor from Lamar’s rap in Radioactive blaring through his earphones. Never once in the four years, the team had been using this gym had the bulbs ever thrown a fit and that, coupled with the gentle telltale cascade of shower droplets to the linoleum below were nothing but mild irritants when he first realized he wasn’t alone in the locker room.

He didn’t much welcome any sort of change to routine, a creature of habit through and through.

Looking up, he noticed the curtain drawn in the last stall, the silhouette of hands running down a slim figure becoming clear through the little-more-than-transparent, pink shower curtains. He spared a second to wonder who it could be, before deciding it didn’t matter either way. He enjoyed taking a few minutes to warm up, run laps around the field by himself before practice but given that those few minutes were of no deeper importance he didn’t mind the early bird too much. What’s in a day?

_(Everything.)_

Setting about his business, Victor unlaced his shoes and stripped out of his jeans and t-shirt, the movements already beginning to steal the tension from his shoulders. The two hours spent on the hockey field were the break from his tiring days he knew he couldn’t do without. Technically, the exercise should leave him wearier, but nothing compared to the freedom of the dirty, open field, where everything except the sticks in their hands and the ball, playing hide-and-seek between their shoes seized to matter. It was liberating and his body had learned to look forward to the pain and exhaustion that came after every practice.

He was in the process of pulling out his jersey from his sports bag when he heard a little surprised squeak and looked up.

Wide, cognac eyes and lips forming a soft _o_ of surprise greeted him. The boy was probably a junior, and definitely not on the hockey team for Victor had never seen him before. He was vaguely aware that dance practices were the closest to their slot but they usually ended by four every day. The gym was supposed to be strictly for the use of the hockey and basketball teams, but given how the latter had practice right after school and the former had them at five, there was generally no one around.

He must not have known Victor was already in the gym, for he had walked out of the shower naked and dripping wet, tan skin gleaming the way Victor could only dream of, given how easily he, himself got sunburned. Though the Japanese boy didn’t seem to mind his nudity awfully, for he gave Victor an acknowledging half-smile and moved to where his bag sat on the bench right by the Russian’s, which he had completely missed when he started undressing barely a foot from it.

“S-sorry, I thought I had a few minutes before anyone arrived.” The Junior’s hands worked quickly, tugging away the flaps on his bag, pulling out a fluffy towel and draping it around his shapely waist that curved smoothly into a bubbly ass and thick thighs. Victor decided it was a safe bet that this boy was on the dance team.

“I like to have the field to myself for a couple of minutes before anyone else gets here” Victor explained, smiling slightly. “It’s no big deal.”

The boy nodded, before pulling out a smaller, powder blue hand-towel and running it down his neck. Victor watched as water droplets chased each other down the boy’s sharp collarbones and smooth abs before losing themselves in the fine fibers of the towel tied snug around his hips.

Victor tore his eyes away, lifting the jersey over his head and smoothing it down his chest, before resuming looking for his track pants. The boy sat down on the bench next to his bag and pulled out his boxers before trying to slip them on from under the towel.

Silence grew between them, and unable to help his curiosity, Victor asked, “You on the dance team?”

The Japanese boy looked up from his self-inflicted tug of war with his towel and boxers, which Victor didn’t see the point of because he had seen everything moments ago anyway which the stranger didn’t seem to mind, and nodded. He didn’t appear eager to venture more information however, so Victor continued to prod.

“We have never had dancers using these showers before.”

Bending down to tie up his laces he didn’t catch the sheepish smile tugging on the boy’s face as he ran a hand through his jet black hair. Later, Victor would wonder if he dyed it because how else was it possible to have hair _that_ dark and shiny?

“Uh, yeah, I stayed back with Miss Okukawa today and when I got to our gym the janitor had already locked up.”

Humming in response, Victor straightened and noticed he had succeeded in pulling up his jeans too, towels now lying bundled up into smaller plastic bags, probably to avoid soaking the rest of his things.

“Junior year?”, he asked conversationally, because what else was he supposed to do? Silence was too personal, too _giving_ a thing to be shared with someone he didn’t know. It left gaping blanks and he had no control over what people decided to fill them up with. Victor had always felt safest in mindless chatter and small-talk.

“Yeah. I am Yuuri Katsuki.”

The boy, _Yuuri,_ gave him a watery smile that seemed polite at best, dis-engaging at worst. It left Victor feeling strangely untethered.

“Victor Nikiforov.” he was about to offer his hand the way he had always been taught to, just as Yuuri shoved his own back into his bag to look for his shirt, and the Russian was infinitely glad he didn’t catch the awkward fumble Victor did to retract his proffered handshake quickly.

A small noise of relief fluttered past Yuuri’s lips as he finally found his shirt and tugged it on. It was a well-fitting half-sleeved button-down in the most unflattering color of teal but Victor reserved his fashion advice for friends so he refrained from allowing his lip to curl in distaste.

Quickly, Yuuri buttoned up his shirt as Victor sat down and pulled out his phone, out of things to say in the face of Yuuri’s obstinate desire to not let any thread of conversation continue. Generally speaking, people went out of their way to talk to Victor so this was just a little strange. He was not used to anyone being disinterested in him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Yuuri slick his sloppy wet bangs back, the light from the ceiling bulbs catching the water droplets so that the thick locks appeared to shimmer, and _alright_ , _with that face he probably could pull this horrible shirt off but that didn’t mean it had any right to exist, really and…_

Yuuri caught his eye and raised a brow before a smile quirked up his lips, smaller than the first and nicer somehow. Less icy.

Victor almost smirked at the irony of that statement, wondering if that was how everybody on the receiving end of his own smiles felt.

“Nice to meet you, Victor. Best of luck for your practice.”

“Thanks!” Victor called out behind Yuuri’s fast receding back, and that was it. That completely non-climatic meeting was the beginning of Victor’s undoing.

_(Victor Nikiforov wasn’t meant to exist in a world where he didn’t know Katsuki Yuuri.)_

_…_

The next time Victor saw Yuuri was slightly more memorable, not that he had managed to forget the locker room scenes, as habitual as he was to forgetting anything vaguely unimportant. This time was in the school cafeteria, during lunch.

Yurio was blushing to the tips of his ears, which was new, and enraged, which wasn’t.

“What’s happening?” Victor placed sat down in his usual seat and turned to Georgi and Christie.

It was Mila who answered him.

“Yura’s got a little crush and we’re going to get them talking.” She sang the last word out her voice carrying clear over the ruckus of the lunch hour and gave the violently screaming freshman a mocking shove of her shoulder. Victor had no idea how she managed to be that unafraid of Yuri Plisetsky but he had decided early on that he didn’t possess her skills.

Or suicidal tendencies. However you choose to look at it.

“Oh?” He picked out his juice box, absently poking a straw into it.

“I just like his dance routines, you brainless hag!”

‘ _Yuuri dances.’_

It was a fairly simple thought, a fairly simple thought that absolutely did not belong in Victor’s mind and hence was a surprise. Experimentally, Victor pawed at it and contrary to habit found it pleasant enough to not be brushed away.

“You had him on your wallpaper.”, Mila teased. From behind her, Sala gave Victor an exaggerated eye-roll. Yuri spluttered, indignant.

_‘And wait, what? Him?’_

All of a sudden, Victor’s eyes were scorching over Yuri’s profile with a new-found curiosity, picking at layers, examining and discarding them when he didn’t find what he was looking for.

Yuri didn’t _seem_ gay.

“It’s not on you, Yurio” Mila remarked. A tan hand now tightened onto Mila’s shoulder, her cue to shut up which she promptly ignored. “He is too cute to resist.”

Victor hummed questioningly.

Slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle Yuri’s vicious complaints, Mila leaned over eyes the size of saucers. She was enjoying this.

“He leads the dance team, and God, his ass!”, Mila groaned and dunked her head down on to the table, continuing to mumble some more besotted nonsense. Victor snickered and cocked a brow at the blonde Freshman.

“I never knew you were into pretty dancers, Yura.”

Yuri tried to wrestle Mila’s hand away, only to get whacked up the head.

“It’s not only that. He looks so cute, and so, I don't know, _mysteriously aloof._ ” Sala supplied, tone amused at her own choice of words. Victor shared the sentiment. Mysteriously aloof? Really?

“He likes to keep to himself but given how popular he is, honestly feels like you are a part of an exclusive, special clique if you’re in his circle.” Was Georgi’s input.

"Can confirm.” Sala said.

“Wow. How have I never heard of him before? What was his name again?”, Victor asked.

“Yuuri!”, Mila hailed out loud, interrupting Georgi. Victor turned around and yes, it was _him._

_It was him._

He didn’t stop to question why it mattered or why his eyes narrowed immediately on the slender figure poised a few feet away from their table, only reveled in chocolate eyes brushing over him, and embellished his own face with a polite smile.

The Japanese boy was wearing glasses today. They looked nice, gave him an air of intelligence.

Reluctantly, Yuuri waved at their table, only for Sala to ask him to come over while Mila whispered hushed taunts in Yuri’s pinking ear. He was surprised to find that was who Yuri had a crush on, but at the same time not. Yuuri Katsuki seemed like a perfectly decent man to lose your shit over, and if it was a little weird to share a name with your crush, well, that was Yuri’s business alone. At least he had better taste in men than in hoodies.

“Hi” Yuuri greeted them, received friendly smiles and waves from everyone, and an indignant glare from Yuri that he seemed to stutter at for a second before becoming hell-bent on ignoring.

“Come sit with us for today!”, Sala gestured at the empty-spot next to Victor before turning teasing eyes on Phichit Chulanont, who was apparently hanging out with Yuuri today.

“Phichit, you won’t mind parting with him for one day, would you?” Sala demanded, playfully.

“Bring me Seung Gil’s number and I won’t.” Phichit cocked a neatly plucked, thick black brow as he smirked at the better Crispino twin. Yuuri playfully jabbed at his side.

“Selling me out for booty, are you?” He questioned. His shoulders were tense, Victor noticed.

_(Of course, he noticed. He had spent so long plucking those chinks out of his own armor.)_

“Deal!” Sala shouted before grabbing Yuuri’s hand across the table and tugging him down roughly, He spread his hands out to brace himself and while the left landed on the edge of the table, his right palm fell flat on top of Victor’s thigh, which he immediately retracted before Victor could even fully register the touch.

“S-sorry.” He muttered, sheepishly.

“You really need to stop starting our conversations with that.”, Victor chuckled and found his smile broadening in an involuntary attempt to ease the solitary wrinkle wedged between Yuuri’s brows.

Yuuri smiled. The wrinkle left. Victor’s eyes crinkled slightly.

Opposite from them, a knife found itself wedged into the table.

Alarmed, Victor turned to meet acid green eyes staring right into his with the self-righteous ferocity he had forgotten fifteen-year-olds could possess. Curling his lip in dismissal, Yuri then turned to glare at Yuuri instead.

“Get up. You aren’t needed here.” He ground out and Victor found his eyes widening.

To Yuri’s right, Mila gasped.

Yuuri frowned slightly.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, pig. Get up so I don’t have to watch you two make eyes at each other and can actually eat my lunch.”

In a second, Victor deflated in exasperation shaking his head at his cousin. What was this? Petty jealousy? Yuri knew he was straight!

Giving Yuri an unimpressed glare, he turned to Yuuri. The Japanese man’s expression was pinched again and before he knew it Victor found himself tapping a finger against Yuuri’s clenched ones, drawing the brunette’s attention to himself.

_(‘Don’t ever take your eyes off me, Victor.’)_

“Don’t mind him. He’s a child, angsty phase and all that.”

“Doesn’t give him any right to be a fucking dick.” Phichit sneered from where he stood behind Yuuri, arms folded and eyes brimming with anger. Victor had played on the same team as Chulanont for two years now and he knew the Thai reserved this expression of pure contempt for the field.

Clearly, Yuuri was important to him.

Before more words could be exchanged, Yuuri was out of his seat and pushing Phichit away, while Mila slapped a hand on Yuri’s mouth again, who seemed to be trying to incinerate the Thai boy with the intensity of his glare, now that spewing verbal poison was out of the question.

Victor shook his head at the absurdity of it all.

…

That night found Victor lounging in his room, Def Leppard blaring on the huge dec system his parents still didn’t approve of him having, procrastinating when he knew he should be working like any high-schooler worth the title. On nights like this one, he would pretend his mother was calling for him and that he wasn’t responding, choosing to ignore her for his favorites of Classic Rock. In reality, he would never dare to ignore his parents, blaming the loud volume for whatever few seconds of delay he ended up causing being the height of his rebellion.

Presently, he was alone in the house, save for the servants who won’t bother to smile at Victor, and who’s names in-turn Victor never bothered to learn. It was a calculated relationship of measured disregard and it was the least strained relationship Victor had with anyone in the house.

Scrolling through Instagram, he stifled a yawn, fingers sweeping across his phone screen mindlessly till a username caught his attention and he sat up.

_yuuri.katsuki_

He hadn’t seen him again after Yuri’s outburst in the cafeteria but he did meet Phichit during practice. When he asked him if Yuuri was fine he received a smile and a ‘don’t worry’ but that was the extent of his contact with the Japanese boy for the day. Curiously, he clicked onto the Instagram ID flashing in his suggestions, fingers already poised to hit follow when he realized the ID was private and had a low follower count of 139, while the following list was bursting at 2,814.

He wondered if Yuuri would accept his request. Not paying it too much mind, he clicked on the blue bar before moving to the solitary blue link displayed in Yuuri’s otherwise empty bio.

He was redirected to a YouTube account.

A few glances at the titles of the clips listed revealed it was the official account of their school’s dance team, the _Downtown Dragons._ Who came up with that ridiculous name was still as big a mystery as who stuck gum in Rebecka Warren’s hair before Prom last year but everybody’s money was on their principal given her reluctance to change it.

Secretly Victor thought the legendary Okukawa Minako was enough of an undercover dork to have picked that name too.

His eyes narrowed on the thumbnail of the second clip, and what looked to be Yuuri in the little square. He clicked on it.

Victor knew that song. It was by Zella Day and he was pretty sure it was called _Hypnotic_ or _Hypnotised_ or _Hypnosis_ or something along those lines. On the screen, the solitary figure of who he recognized as Isabella Yang, JJ’s long term girlfriend was in a crouch, doing some frankly difficult looking lock-and-pop shoulder movements in time with the building tempo of the song before rising to her feet and sauntering confidently to the middle of the room. The lyrics started flowing, a movement followed it to the side and _oh._

There he was. Victor’s eyes hadn’t deceived him.

Twenty seconds into Yuuri joining Isabella and he had completely overshadowed her, despite not being the lead. Victor didn’t know anything about dancing beyond what any frequent partier would, that is to say, absolutely nothing when it came to professional dancing. Yet, it was clear even to his unseasoned eyes that Yuuri was incredibly talented, his body moving with a liquid grace which formed a stark contrast against the strictly controlled and measured step sequences his legs were effortlessly following. At one point, he twirled Isabella, bringing her head to rest against the back of his right hand before dipping her to the left in the jerky, short movements that seemed to characterize this number. Then he stepped over her frame and their bodies met together in twin waves, hips colliding in a singular grind before they pulled away, expressions just the right edge of teasing, flirting.

The tempo of the song was too heavy to be playful, it was heady, consuming. Yuuri paused and licked his lips as his eyes ran over Isabella’s dainty fingers walking up the sides of her body. They had chemistry together, and they portrayed the song’s sexual tension so well it had Victor’s knuckles turning white on the edges of his phone. He couldn’t look away from them, from him.

Before he knew, the video had ended and he was replaying it, eyes lapping up the sensual twists of the body he had seen naked just a handful of days ago _and really why had he never heard of Yuuri before?_

Most of the videos on the channel featured Yuuri, some in a group, others solo and yet more where he was partnered with Isabella. Victor subscribed to the channel and promised himself he would allow himself two more clips of solo Yuuri before he finally got down to the Geography assignment he had due the next day. He would stop after two last videos, he swore.

He didn’t. _Then again,_ he reasoned, _who could ever look away from Yuuri?_

He was just that good.

_ (He had seen nothing yet.) _


	2. Of Dances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not be a filler chapter because I wanted to give you guys some background on Yuuri.
> 
> [Yuuri's theme song for this chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5Cw-5DuNbg)

The sound of someone calling his name cut through the muted, meaningless babble of the crowded hallways. Yuuri paused and allowed Isabella to catch up with him.

She pushed her bangs out of her face in a frustrated motion as she came shoulder-to-shoulder with him, looping her free arm around his. Her hairstylist had experimented with the style and length of her bangs, and she had yet to grow to like them.

Giving up on her more-than-perfect bob, which Yuuri would kill to have the bone structure to pull off, she turned to eye him with a huff. From the faint wrinkle between her brows, he knew he was better off agreeing with whatever she was about to demand.

“JJ wanted to go try out that soda pop place Leo tagged in his snap yesterday. Wanna come along?”

Yuuri’s eyes crinkled in confusion.

“And be the third wheel who gets token attention but is otherwise ignored? Like a Christmas card to a distant relative you don’t actually want to invite for dinner.”

“Oh no, it’s not a date.” Isabella waved her hand around, dismissing his concerns with ease. She was so used to his behavior, she barely blinked an eye at his response. Yuuri had to bite back a grin. “I know he is probably going to ask his friends from the hockey team, anyway.”

“So I am not the third wheel. I am the compensation he offered you.” He smirked and watched Isabella roll her eyes.

She didn’t deign to respond and wordlessly started dragging him over towards the gates.

“How’d the date go?”

Yuuri hummed, wondering how to put ‘she was trying so hard to get to know me that I basically got overwhelmed and proceeded to ignore her for my phone for the rest of the afternoon’ without making it obvious that he acted like a major dick. Anastasia had looked hurt and angry when they parted ways, and if Yuuri was in her place he would have made it a point to unload all the disgusting details of their ‘date’ in front of every single person at school the very next day, so he didn’t really know why Isabella, or absolutely _anyone,_ was unaware of what had happened.

He still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t just gotten up and left. He would have.

“I messed up.” He put it simply and as expected, Isabella’s mouth formed into the scowl she and Phichit had collectively adopted as a means of thwarting Yuuri’s self-deprecating streak.

“I am not,” he continued. “Trust me, I am not being insecure or anxious or whatever you guys use in place of ‘honest’ these days. I really, really messed up and I should apologize.”

Isabella gave him a long look, narrow blue eyes making Yuuri look away and chuckle to try to diffuse some of the air of cold scrutiny she seemed to be projecting. Finally deciding to take Yuuri’s words at face-value, she sighed and looked away.

“You aren’t going to, though.” She pointed out, and Yuuri winced because _personal attack much?_ He didn’t counter the statement, however. He tried to avoid outright lying as much as possible.

“Well, now she knows when they tell you to avoid creepy math nerds with shady pasts, you listen.” Yuuri attempted a joke and then cringed. This was bad, even by his standards.

“Literally nobody tells anyone that but I will have to admit, immigration from Japan is the most chilling origin story possible.” She rolled her eyes again. Yuuri would make a jab about looking for her brains back in her head but he figured he had exhausted his daily quota of lame jokes.

“How’s the program coming along?” He questioned instead.

Isabella gave him an unimpressed glance because they practiced together every day and Yuuri knew _exactly_ how the program was coming along but she allowed him this escape, moving on to chatter about her entrance program for the women’s dance competition neither of them bothered to try pronouncing the name of.

The office of the security guards was by the gates, and all high-schooler boarders had to enter their exit time before leaving and return before their curfew, which was 7 in the evening if they needed to go anywhere. Isabella waited outside as Yuuri quickly entered the office and headed towards the computer to scan his fingerprint and sign out. Smiling at the grumpy, red-haired man who never smiled back at anyone, ever he finished the technicalities and moved to sign the register page, quickly skimming his eyes up the list of names that had signed out already.

JJ had left, but Phichit hadn’t. Leo’s name appeared right underneath JJ’s though, so he was probably coming along.

Yuuri shut the register, placed the pen back in the holder, and turned to leave, fishing out his phone and shooting a text asking Phichit where he was. There was no way JJ invited Leo but didn’t invite Phichit.

The response came as he and Isabella headed towards a group of hockey jerseys Yuuri could make out from the corner of his eye. _‘Over in a minute.’-_ the message read. Yuuri was so caught up typing out a reply asking Phichit to hurry that he didn’t look up till he had stepped on someone’s shoe.

Yuuri wasn’t counting on Victor to be one of the ‘friends’ Isabella said JJ might call, though he didn’t know why. He knew the two were close, or JJ considered them to be so, at least.

“Shit, I am sorry!” He held his hands up, hastily backing away. Victor looked up into his eyes, and a moment later, they were both snickering.

“You’re never going to learn, are you?” Victor shook his head. His picture-perfect smile divulged into the category of something caused by actual amusement and Yuuri internally preened at having managed to get a somewhat genuine reaction from the Victor Nikiforov who’s every expression seemed tailored to deliver carefully calculated impressions that left Yuuri strangely frustrated every time he caught sight of them.

_How could one man be so plastic?_

Yuuri grinned, shoulders sagging in the face of Victor’s twinkling eyes. It was always his eyes, his startlingly clear blue eyes that gave away how little he meant what he put forward.

“I forbid you to apologize to me ever again.” Victor teased.

“Sorry,” Yuuri drawled “What makes you think you have any authority over me?”

Victor’s shoulders lifted in a shrug of laughter. “I do have authority over myself and I refuse to listen to another one of your apologies.”

“Would suggest cotton, it’s a lot softer and nicer than plastic earplugs. I don’t have any on me right now though.” His grin widened. “Sorry.”

Viktor shook his head, but before he could respond, a furious hiss and the click of someone’s tongue distracted Yuuri.

He turned around to see Isabella, JJ, Leo, and two other kids he couldn’t name watching them in amusement. The blonde junior from the breakfast table the day before was also there, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, probably the source of the angry sounds. Yuuri held back a sigh. He didn’t know what the toddler always seemed so angry about but it clearly had something to do with him and he really didn’t care to find out.

He gave Victor a tired glance, who shrugged in response.

“Yo, Yuri look! Your wet dream!”

Yuuri turned around to Leo but it soon became apparent the American was talking to the blonde junior. Yuuri didn’t know they shared a name.

The group turned to look at who Leo was calling the kid’s wet dream in an embarrassingly obvious manner, but Victor, JJ, and Isabella combined were easily the three most popular students on campus, apart from Phichit himself. It wasn’t like anyone was going to make them feel bad about it. Yuuri on his end tried to be discreet. His gaze parsed through the hordes of students on their way out of the building to pick out Christophe Giacometti making his way to his yellow Lambo _and well okay, that made sense._

The other Yuri probably didn’t think so and embarked on a heavy, filthy rant, Leo’s collar bunched up in his bony fist. JJ, who’d been uncharacteristically silent till now, quickly swooped in and dragged the blonde teen away, arms secure around his waist.

A shorter, brown-haired boy quickly stepped in front of Leo, who was still laughing at the seething junior.

Yuuri needed Phichit to get there as soon as possible. He was already feeling overwhelmed and out of the loop, here. He only really knew Isabella and JJ but they knew _everyone,_ clearly.

“I mean remember our cheat list, Bella?” JJ asked from where he was still holding on to Yuri, who was basically frothing at the mouth now. Yuuri didn’t want to be around the kid much less hold him in a chokehold. “Add Giacometti to it. I am confident enough in my sexuality to say if he ever came on to me I won’t turn him down.”

“You’re disgusting, man! Let go of me!” Yuri screamed and JJ loosened his hold, latching on just barely to keep the snarling teen away from a snickering Isabella.

“We get you, Yuri. Chris is everyone’s wet dream and he’s fucking proud of it.”

Yuuri didn’t know why he turned to Victor just then.

“As he should be. That ass is perfect.” The brown-haired boy next to Leo provided. He looked only about as old as the other Yuri, probably a sophomore.

Yuuri didn’t know why Victor’s jaw was tight, eyes a spearing shard of ice, cold and clearly displeased.

“It’d be criminal to turn him down!” Isabella protested. Christophe had long since driven away.

Yuuri didn’t know why he was more uncomfortable with the rapidity with which Victor schooled his expression than his upset expression in the first place

Yuuri soon found out the two kids he didn’t know, knew his name already and felt even shittier. The moment Phichit joined them and was done bestowing his excited ‘hellos’ onto everyone, the Japanese pulled him aside and asked for their names.

They were both sophomores, Guang-Hong Ji and Emil Nekola. Yuuri committed their names to memory, repeating them under his breath so obviously that Victor noticed and sent him a teasing smirk.

“Ciao Ciao was being such a dick today I legit threw a book at him.”, Phichit whined out as he took his usual place at Yuuri’s arm. He didn’t seem to have noticed Yuri, yet which Yuuri was thankful for. Phichit really didn’t take well to people who misbehaved with his friends and he hadn’t forgiven the junior for their interaction in the cafeteria the day before.

“That’s not new. Every once in a while, he cycles back to this manic-mode and drives everyone fucking crazy. I can’t fit everyone in my car. Are we walking?” Isabella threw the question at no one in particular.

Yuuri turned just in time to catch Victor’s startled yelp as JJ stabbed his back with his forefingers.

“No one is walking. What did you think we invited this pretty lad here for?”

“The charms of my company, I would hope?”

“Your Q7, more like. I think we’d be fine between his car and Isabella’s.”

…

Yuuri didn’t know why these people were friends with him. Every time he rode in Isabella’s Mercedes he remembered how different they truly were. He wasn’t popular or rich or gorgeous or any of the adjectives the student body used to describe Phichit, Isabella, or JJ. He was a transfer student on a scholarship who actually came here for the school’s hockey team but never could bring himself to go for the trials.

So, he had settled for the dance team and refused to mention it to anyone ever. Dancing was familiar, dancing was safe, dancing was the cocoon he had wished to break out of so that he could fully spread his wings and show the world the breathtaking talent his family and friends back home kept insisting he had.

He hadn’t succeeded, clearly but he didn’t allow himself to wallow in self-pity. It was useless but given how he was the one who sabotaged his own chances, he knew he didn’t even deserve that much from himself.

The car rocked out of a pothole Isabella had failed to see because JJ kept trying to show her something on his phone. The familiar jazz tunes he heard every evening in the dance studio were playing in the car. It was Isabella’s competition music and Yuuri had to admit, it was a great song for her, catchy, upbeat, and softly sensual. JJ loved it _just as much_ , he had been told.

Next to him, Phichit and Emil were bitching about a classmate Yuuri knew by name but couldn’t attach a face to. Leo had decided to ride with Guang-Hong and Yuri in Victor’s car.

Victor was pretty, rich, and popular too but it didn’t come as naturally to him as it did to the other three. Victor maintained a careful facade and it was none of Yuuri’s business, really, if he did. He just couldn’t understand why no one else picked up on it.

The cafe they were headed to was supposed to be just around the corner but was somehow taking over ten minutes to reach. It was the after-school/lunch hour rush and Yuuri turned his gaze out of the window.

Victor’s smile was beautiful when it wasn’t forced to look perfect. His upper lip would dip in a vague heart shape, lopsided and toothy and his nose did a little scrunch that was absolutely adorable.

“What you smiling at?”

Yuuri turned to look at JJ upfront. He hadn’t realized he was smiling.

“I didn’t know you knew Victor.”, Isabella supplied.

“I don’t.” Nobody seemed to.

…

The cafe was cute but very pink, with pink walls and magenta curtains and pastel furniture and framed purple modern art. Yuuri wasn’t one for chocolate soda pops but he ordered it because he was craving a change in the color scheme.

It came in a pink cup with a white straw.

His best friend, self-proclaimed social media king, self-proclaimed cameraman of the year, self-proclaimed selfie-artist extraordinaire Phichit Chulanont, was having the time of his life, getting Guang-Hong to click him in various spots around the cafe. His feed was going to be very pink once he was done with his ongoing monochrome theme.

His phone chimed on the table in front of him.

“Hawwwww Yuuri you complete f-boy!” JJ gesticulated in mock horror. “You’re texting Phichit’s man behind his back! And only days after your date with sweet ole Anastasia!”

Seung-Gil’s name flashed angrily in his notification. Yuuri turned the phone over.

“We’re partners for our Chem project and I only have his Snapchat which Phichit does too but refuses to text him on for some reason.” He explained calmly, refusing to comment on the Anastasia bit. He hoped JJ would catch the hint and drop the subject, but he should’ve known that was stupid.

“Wait, you’re the one who went out with Anastasia last weekend?” Emil frowned and _oh no_. Yuuri sent Isabella a panicked glance but before she could respond JJ decided to open his big, fat mouth and ruin everything.

“So? Did you score?”

“I heard she went home crying.” Victor took a noisy sip of his soda pop and Yuuri had never wanted to punch someone so bad before.

“What did you do?” JJ laughed, probably not getting that Victor really wasn’t joking. “Performance anxiety keep you down, my man?”

An indignant squawk followed and Yuuri hoped that was Isabella stomping down on JJ’s foot.

“I don’t know what happened. I didn’t drive her back home.” And if she was choosing to be the bigger person and not throwing him under the bus he wasn’t going to confess in front of people who were practically strangers for all intents and purposes and ruin her efforts.

“She didn’t say?”, Victor asked. Yuuri sipped his drink in a noisier fashion than Victor could ever imagine and counted it as a victory that others just couldn’t see he had achieved… because they didn’t know he was competing… in soda sipping.

“No.”

“Oi piggy,” blonde Yuri began and sighing, Yuuri just accepted that was his nickname now. “Did you even call back?”

He hadn’t.

“Did you guys see the picture Jayde uploaded on Instagram yesterday? Do you think she got a lipo?” It wasn’t smooth of Isabella but Yuuri was very grateful, anyway.

Victor, who was either very passionate about cosmetic surgeries or had finally noticed Yuuri was uncomfortable, jumped onto the topic, and together, he and Isabella didn’t let it die down till they felt Yuuri was safe.

Yuri didn’t stop glaring at him like he was the lowest of the low.

_He didn’t try to insist he wasn’t, even in the confines of his own mind._

…

Since there were no practices scheduled for the day, Isabella and Victor flipped a coin and decided Victor would drive JJ, Yuuri, Phichit, and Leo back to school. Yuuri rode shotgun.

In the backseat, the three had devolved into hostel gossip. In the front, Victor gave Yuuri a glance out of the corner of his eye before turning back to the road.

“You’re a great dancer.”

“Oh.” Then, he remembered his manners. “Thank you. Just been doing it for a long time, I guess.”

“Let me present an alternative. You will find, ‘Thank you. I am just that talented’ to be a more accurate response.”

Yuuri chuckled awkwardly because he couldn’t decide how else to respond to something like that. Sure, enough people had previously assured him of his talents multiple times but they were his friends or family members. He didn’t even know where Victor saw him performing.

So he asked the Russian boy.

“The YouTube link in your bio.” Victor said.

“Bio?” Yuuri frowned. He knew what link he was talking about but what the hell was a bio?

“Instagram.” Victor shrugged.

“Oh, you call that bio?”

“Everyone does.” His lips quirked up and Yuuri nodded, sheepishly.

“You didn’t get my follow request?”

“Don’t take it personally if he doesn’t accept it for months.” Phichit chose that moment to insert himself into their conversation because he had an in-built radar for whenever someone mentioned Yuuri and social media in the same breath. “He doesn’t check his social media, like ever!”

Yuuri flipped off the Thai boy and immediately pulled out his phone, opening the app to his overflowing notifications. There were quite a lot of requests and he promised himself to sort through them later, presently accepting Victor’s and moving to send one in return. He watched as the tab next to his username turned from the blue ‘follow’ to the white ‘following’. 

“There!” He declared, feeling stupidly self-satisfied. Victor huffed out a laugh as Phichit and JJ crowed loudly.

“Thank you.” Victor inclined his head and Yuuri watched as his fringe brushed the high of his cheekbone, listened as his deep voice mixed in with the cacophony of their companion’s loud voices and yet remained distinct, rich. Yuuri nodded again and shied away when he saw Phichit giving them a weird look from the rear-view-mirror.

He felt a sudden need to shrug off his seatbelt and tucked his palms under his thighs, just in case, you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it was a Slow Burn.
> 
> Comment!!


	3. Fleeting, Shy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor, the dum-dum. 
> 
> READDDDDDDD
> 
> [Victor's theme song for chapter 1](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLOeafl-ORk)
> 
> [Yuuri's theme song for chapter 2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5Cw-5DuNbg)
> 
> I've gone back and added these with the respective chapters too.
> 
> [song for chapter 3](https://youtu.be/dPRPw6_aacg)
> 
> I have put together a playlist for this story, but I am unsure how to release it, chapter by chapter as the songs follow or altogether? Should I make a Tumblr post explaining what each song means? Lemme know what you'd prefer, my dudes!

Victor watched the smoke curl away from his mouth, brought the joint back to his lips and inhaled the bitter fumes again. He supposed to Yuri, who was lounging on his bed and gazing at his back, he was the picture of a man deep in contemplation but swimming in the haze of pricey hash hitting just right, his head was quieter now than it had been the entire day.

… because _Chris fucking Giacometti_ had been there.

Objectively he knew it was stupid to hope to avoid his ex-friend forever when they went to the same school and lived on the same street but Victor’s brain had an unparalleled ability to make it seem like if he ignored them hard enough, his problems would go away. That never happened. Victor never learned. 

He was trying to ignore it after all.

He tipped his head back as the drug started hitting right. Eyelids drooped lower and lower, fingertips were raised to lips again and again, till Victor was no longer blinking but hanging off the railing in his balcony with his eyes half closed. It was dangerous, but the wind was pleasantly cool tonight, and the joint smouldering between his fingertips made him feel like he was a tad invincible.

Like 1/4 of Captain America.

He giggled, Yuri groaned. There was the distinct sound of angry teen stomping and then he was being pulled away from the balcony and dumped onto his bed.

He fell back and waited for someone to climb on top of him, and laughed when no one did.

Yuri snatched the joint from his hand and marched away.

…

Victor had a high alcohol tolerance and a shitty drug tolerance. He knew that.

He also knew that he didn’t hit the deep end once he got off the high, he just… lost the ability to sleep for the next twelve hours straight.

That was why he was up at 3 A.M. on a school night, listlessly scrolling Instagram. His phone was balanced precariously between his flaccid fingers, arm aching from holding it up like that. He would give it thirty-seven seconds tops before it fell right on his face.

He shook his head, flipped over onto his front and put up token resistance as his thumb glazed over to the explore page and typed in a username in the search bar like it already had twelve times before. The phone spat out a suggestion at him, knowing, _mocking,_ before he could so much as enter the third letter of Yuuri’s user.

Well, he wasn’t to be blamed. The guy had a ridiculously aesthetic looking Instagram wall.

He was the sort of person who took grade-A pictures of random shit, put on the same filter on every single one of them and ended up making a really pretty and really impersonal ID which gave _nothing_ away as to who he was and Victor couldn’t help thumbing over and comparing it to his own wall, where every single picture was a carefully picked, gorgeous shot of him. Similarly pretty, similarly impersonal.

They both seemed well-versed in hiding away. Victor didn’t know if that was what drew him to Yuuri’s account again and again but he couldn’t stop scrolling down the thousands of pictures, dogs, ice-creams, his laptop, coffee cups, stage lights and god knows what else. You name it, Yuuri had clicked it. He seemed to enjoy sticking to a theme at least, even if that theme was ‘go through a horde of dumb shit and don’t learn a single thing about me.’

Victor groaned with brimming frustration. He felt thrown off, like he was being denied something that was rightfully his, as ridiculous as that sounded. He felt a dry chuckle rise in his throat when he remembered how often Chris used to call him an arrogant, entitled ass… before a borderline genius idea struck him.

He moved on to check Yuuri’s tagged pictures. 

_And, oh._

He grinned as he clicked on the first clip which Phichit had posted and tagged Yuuri in. The background was basic lavender walls and a bunk bed, the lower bunk of which Yuuri presently occupied. The Japanese boy had his feet propped up on the wall, garish orange shorts riding up his muscular thighs as he made speculative gestures in the air and talked… to himself… in Japanese… out loud.

Victor snorted. 

Phichit, it seemed, hoarded content of Yuuri, dumb boomerangs of him falling over and bumping into things and immediately proceeding to apologise to them, compilations of Yuuri scrunching his nose before realising that didn’t actually help in righting his glasses and using his fingers next with a sheepish grimace, videos from his dance practices which Victor may or may not have saved, and clips of Yuuri going on angry rants about things as stupid as the world’s hatred for pineapple on pizza.

Victor loved pineapple on pizza, and he had never felt more proud of it.

That wasn’t all. Phichit also loved taking beautiful pictures of and with Yuuri. The Thai boy knew his selfie game, which was a fact Victor _also_ objectively knew but actively spent time avoiding because it had been thrown around once or twice (or maybe a couple of hundred times) before that Phichit’s selfie game was stronger than Victor’s and _nobody_ challenged it. He was still bitter about that, and he guessed his total devotion to speed-liking and moving past Phichit’s posts within a second was why he never came across Yuuri before.

Which was a waste because Yuuri was quite interesting.

An hour or so later, Victor had exhausted Phichit’s reserve of Yuuri documentation and moved on to JJ and Isabella, who also had a few shots with Yuuri, but not a lot. Clearly they didn’t understand what amazing pictures one could get with the cute Japanese guy. He seemed to brighten up every shot he was in.

Victor felt an intense need to tell Yuuri that. Maybe that would convince him to post his own face on his ID.

Victor’s thumb moved over to the chat box and he had already opened it before he realised what time it was. There was no way Yuuri would be up at this hour, he was convinced. Imagine his surprise then, when he saw the tiny green dot blinking beside Yuuri’s username at the top of the chat box, indicating he was online.

All cleared, Victor moved to type in a _‘hey’_ before his thumb stuttered to an awkward pause.

His mind raced to decide if it’d be appropriate to text Yuuri like this, with no context or reason and his heart screamed that it absolutely won’t. It was only Victor’s legendary self-control that kept him from locking the device and chucking it away at the wave of nervousness that arose from within.

Yuuri didn’t seem overly keen on talking to Victor this evening, he remembered.

He huffed, because this was stupid. It was starting a conversation with someone who loosely fell into the category of a friend and Victor had done this a million times before. There was nothing weird about messaging him.

He exited out of the chat box anyway. If you asked him he’d tell you it was because of how late it was. Just because Yuuri was up at 4 didn’t mean it was appropriate to text him at 4 after all.

Losing interest in his phone, he pushed it away and moved to his laptop instead, determined to find something worth watching on Netflix. 

…

“Do you text your friends good morning?” Victor called Yuri the next morning at 6, as soon as he deemed it socially acceptable. Yuri disagreed, in wildly colourful language.

“I don’t have friends. Period.” Victor wondered why Yuri sounded proud of that, then reminded himself he was angsty and moved on, not willing to deal with this for now.

It was nice to wake up to a good morning text, wasn’t it? It showed you somebody was thinking of you. Victor didn’t _think_ it was weird, really. He was just checking, because he didn’t really know Yuuri and all that.

“Okay but imagine if you had a friend, and like, a new one, someone you’re still trying to be close with. Would you text them good morning?”

Victor was ready for another string of abuse, for a scream so loud it would shatter his eardrums if he wasn’t so used to it, even for the phone to just be hung up. He wasn’t ready for the deep, cautious tone of voice Yuri broke out next.

“Don’t bother. Nobody likes that.”

Victor was fairly sure he was lying but he decided not to take the risk anyway.

…

He was still thinking of a good ice-breaker when he parked his car in the school parking lot that morning, screen open to Yuuri’s page underneath his thumb. He unplugged his phone from the music system, locked and pocketed it before grabbing his backpack from the back and bringing it to the front seat. Noticing he still had some coffee left in his cup, he gave his watch a glance and settled back to finish it, given he had arrived fairly early and had some time before the bell rang.

Now that he didn’t have the excuse of it being too late, he had moved on to it being school time to justify his uncharacteristic hesitation in texting the man. It didn’t mean he could put it out of his mind, however.

Slurping the last few dregs of the nearly cold latte Victor surveyed the students milling about the parking lot. It was a rare experience, sitting back and observing, and not one he particularly craved anyway. There was something completely disarming about the anonymity of being away from everyone’s eyes and yet exposed to them, surrounded. He felt like he could do anything in these stolen pockets of time, could _be_ anyone without fearing a nameless stranger’s response.

As it was, he often didn’t know how to act in those spaces. They felt like cracks in a mask he couldn’t let break.

Grabbing his bag and phone, he got out of the car, locking it and casting a glance around himself for the trashcan that adamantly changed its position every damn day, almost as if it _wanted_ the students to litter around.

Finally locating it and finding it within chucking-and-safely-landing distance, Victor aimed carefully and threw the scrunched cup into the can. A cheerful _‘whoo’_ followed, and he turned around to see Georgi and Christie making their way towards him.

Victor took a deep breath and never thought to question what he was bracing himself for, and slapped a grin on to his lips.

“Morning!” He called out. _And see?_ He wished them good morning, why was he so afraid to wish Yuuri?

Oh right, because it was school time already.

They both called out similar greetings and before long Christie had her an arm each on both the Russians’ necks. Victor’s shoulders tightened. He was back in the familiar bubble where he knew who he was supposed to be and that was someone who never had to hesitate so much about starting a conversation with a guy he found interesting.

…

Victor wondered if the only times he would come across Yuuri was on these off chances that he couldn’t count on. There was no guarantee of them repeating after all.

The pained moans coming from the dance studio were definitely Yuuri’s, and Victor, who was on his was to the water cooler in the main building before practice started because he had forgotten his sipper at home like an amateur, recognised them at once.

For a second he had wondered if Yuuri wasn’t actually in pain, and if those moans indicated quite the opposite but a vehement hiss had followed that laid his doubts to rest. Yuuri definitely wasn’t fucking a girl in there, or if he was, he had to be a heavy masochist to sound so tortured.

He pushed the doors open the moment he became convinced that Yuuri was in pain, and his eyes were immediately drawn to where Yuuri lay curled into a ball on the floor, jaw lying open in heavy pants, fingers clutching his right calf, his yoga pants rolled up from there. In a second, Victor was by his side, a frantic shout of the other guy’s name tearing out of his mouth almost against his will.

Yuuri’s cognac eyes shot wide open and he tried to sit up even as Victor came to kneel beside him.

“I-I, _ah!_ I am fine.” He hissed, teeth kissing, lips pulled back in clear distress. Victor wondered who he was trying to fool.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned insistently. “Where does it hurt?” His hands moved to the calf Yuuri was clutching before the other guy could answer at all, fingers stubbornly spreading over the muscles there despite Yuuri trying to bat his hands away.

The moment his palm touched Yuuri’s unnaturally taut calf he knew. A cramp, a _bitch_ of a cramp, if Victor knew anything.

“Give it here.” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s thigh and straightened out his leg from under him. Yuuri keened in pain the moment Victor’s hands fell on him. At least he had given up on insisting he was okay.

Frowning, Victor started moving his hand up and down the muscle like Coach Yakov had taken care to teach everyone on the hockey team. Yuuri panted, but seemed insistent on not crying out again if his tongue tucked between his teeth was any indication.

Under Victor’s expert hands, the cramp started relieving itself soon enough, the stress in the muscle disappearing under the consistent heat of the Russian’s palm. Yuuri sagged in relief as he felt the pain recede.

The cramp wasn’t even completely gone before Yuuri was hissing again, the elbows he was resting on collapsing underneath him, his calf muscles bunching back with a bitter vengeance.

“Shit. Okay, ssshhh.” Victor hushed his screaming head, because Yuuri wasn’t making any sound, despite how painful it must’ve been for him.

Sliding out from in front of him, Victor brought Yuuri’s staggering form to rest against his own chest as he leaned forward and changed the angle of his massage, hands quickening and applying more pressure to help relieve the tightening. Yuuri’s head rolled back on to his shoulder as he squinted his eyes shut. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t clench your muscles, relax.” He muttered frantically, only subconsciously aware of the Junior’s choking grip on the neck of his jersey.

Thankfully, the cramp didn’t return once it left this time and Yuuri melted in the cradle of Victor’s arm as he continued massaging the calf even after all the stress was gone, bending and stretching Yuuri’s leg in different positions to make sure it won’t return.

Yuuri struggled to catch his breath again, and the soft tufts of air brushing against the side of Victor’s neck alerted the both of them as to how Yuuri had tucked his head under Victor’s jaw in his distress, and the Senior had come to lean his head over Yuuri’s face protectively.

A weird tingly feeling ran down Victor’s spine and dazed, he watched Yuuri pull away with a choked yelp, hands still bunched in the hockey jersey not allowing him to move very far away while simultaneously tugging the Russain forward. Victor lost his balance and his hands instinctively moved to brace himself against the floor, bracketing Yuuri between them.

Their chests brushed together, and Victor filed away the flecks of black blending against the chocolate of Yuuri’s eyes to admire later. Nose to nose, both broke into a surprised chuckle.

“I- uh, thanks.” Yuuri said, and when he broke eye contact, in his usual skittish manner, Victor registered the strange need to grab his jaw and force him to let him see his eyes again.

“You’re welcome, Yuuri.” He tried to smile and it sat weird on his face.

Instead, he pulled his legs back under him, gathered Yuuri up in his arms again and stood up.

Immediately Yuuri was clamming up in his arms, hand gesticulating wildly as he insisted he was fine and could walk by himself, which wasn’t new information. Victor had had enough cramps in his life to not doubt Yuuri’s restored mobility for a second.

“Sorry.”, he intoned and didn’t set Yuuri down, carrying him all the way to where benches were stacked as makeshift bleachers.

As agile as his body was, Yuuri was unsurprisingly easy for Victor to carry. He couldn’t help smirking when the younger guy huffed in annoyance and finally settled.

Placing Yuuri down to sit on an upturned bench, Victor sat beside him and gave his calf a cursory swipe to make sure no undue tension returned. Yuuri pulled back, hands grabbing Victor’s and pulling them off of his limb.

“It’s okay, I’ll take it from here!” He exclaimed, voice pitched higher than usual and eyes still not straying towards Victor.

He really didn’t like that.

“I am not trying to hurt you.” Victor reminded the Japanese boy, a little miffed by his response. He was acting like Victor’s mere touch burned him when he had done nothing but help.

Violent red erupted across Yuuri’s nose and cheekbones, and his eyes finally rose to meet Victor’s, only to lower again with shame.

“No!” Yuuri groaned. “I know! It’s just-”

He gulped, and Victor waited patiently, not wanting to push him into talking when he was very clearly struggling with words.

“Listen I am not good with taking help. Hell, I’d dig my own grave if I could. I am not ungrateful, really, thank you, Victor. I am sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just can’t help wanting to deal with everything by myself.”

Carefully, slowly, giving Yuuri plenty of room to back out if he wanted to, Victor put his hand on his knee, and squeezed.

“It’s okay. That does sound like one hell of a way to live, though. Ought to be exhausting.”, he smiled, trying to help ease the thick blanket of tension he hadn’t anticipated. Yuuri didn’t shrug off his hand.

“It’d be more exhausting to regulate and change my reactions every time.” Yuuri shrugged. Victor nodded because he knew it was. He had been doing it all his life, yet Yuuri… Yuuri was guarded, but he wasn’t fake and Victor figured that was something to respect him for.

They remained in silence till Yuuri visibly started feeling awkward, and Victor decided it was time to distract the younger male.

He didn’t stop to think, and went with the first statement he could think of, which was a dramatic swoon of his head and a low-pitched ‘this is it, then? I have interfered with your mission to release your own cramps and dig your own graves so I guess this is the fated end of our budding friendship.’ He sighed and tutted till Yuuri was laughing, surprise written on his face.

Which was fair, Victor was always cool and composed, and he probably would have maintained said facade if he had given himself the space to think before he talked.

“Oh my god, stop!” The younger man urged and Victor gave him a smile. Yuuri gazed at him for a couple of seconds longer, before his expression grew sombre again.

“That was the first time I heard you cuss.”

Victor was used to people paying attention to his every gesture. The butterflies fluttering in his stomach because Yuuri did the same were wholly unwarranted.

“I don’t. Not out loud, at least. Inner Victor,” he tapped his chest. “Has quite the potty mouth.”

Yuuri nodded and looked away. “Uh, aren’t you getting late for practice, Victor?”

Victor knew how to read a dismissal and stood up gracefully.

“Oh. I am, thanks.”

Yuuri stood up too and gave Victor another small grin.

“Thanks a lot, Victor. Really.”

Victor simply smiled and waved his goodbye, and before he turned away he told Yuuri, “Anytime. And if that shovel ever gets too heavy to carry you can call me. I won’t tell anyone you asked for help, not even you.”

…

Back home that night, Victor tapped into his meme folder and brought out his best ones before forwarding them all to Yuuri, seventeen in a row and if his heart thundered when three squiggly dots appeared at the bottom of the screen to indicate Yuuri typing, he simply ignored it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peek the Beibs reference.


	4. Night Go Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor, Chris and a coffee machine show up (not necessarily in that order)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is inspired by [Night Go Slow- Catey Shaw](https://youtu.be/xl92kArKwSU) which is also the song I listened to while writing the rooftop scene. You guys told me you were okay with each chapter coming with the song so that's how I am going to release the playlist to you :)

A phone pinged.

Yuuri had gone from using Instagram once every two weeks to an average of two hours every day, all because Victor fucking Nikiforov won’t stop sending him memes. After which, he felt obligated to send some back. It would be very easy if he could just ignore the messages and never open any, but Victor had a _good_ stash. Yuuri couldn’t resist a funny meme or the random puppy videos he seemed to also hoard. He was helpless, his curiosity always made his fingers fly to click on every notification that said, _‘Victor Nikiforov sent you a message.’_ and once he opened them, he couldn’t leave without sending some from his and Phichit’s shared Drive folder.

JJ called it a miracle. Phichit was torn between feeling overjoyed that Yuuri was finally using his social media and furious that where he hadn’t been able to move a pebble, Victor had crushed the entire rock within days of knowing Yuuri so he alternated between pouting and excitedly telling Yuuri about features of Instagram they both knew the Japanese boy would never use.

Then, Victor caught and added Yuuri on his near-dead Snapchat. Gulping, he accepted but prayed Victor won’t start snapping him because he had no idea what he would even send back. Thankfully, it seemed the Russian wasn’t as active on Snapchat as on Instagram.

In a sense, Yuuri supposed this abundance of online interaction and a complete lack of face-to-face communication was a blessing in disguise. After the embarrassing incident in the dance studio that evening, Yuuri wasn’t excited to meet Victor again. All this meme-sending back and forth acted as the buffer keeping him from cutting Victor out of his life.

It was _so easy_ for him to forget the world didn’t turn to bring him down.

He couldn’t remember when he started harbouring this intense feeling that people would consider him weak over the slightest loss of composure. Phichit had once made this great point that revolved heavily around the completely logical argument of ‘would you judge someone over something like that?’ If anxiety followed logics or reason, that’d easily defeat all of Yuuri’s self-doubts.

Sadly enough, it didn’t. Yuuri would’ve bolted the moment he was back on his feet if Victor hadn’t caught him completely off-guard, whether with his out-of-character cussing or his adorably lame dramatics. Yuuri wasn’t expecting it from Victor, as aware as he was of how little Victor actually let his true self show.

Like any normal human though, (or any normal human who was best friends with Phichit Chulanont and in the habit of watching a LOT of thriller dramas) he had assumed the parts Victor so obviously kept hidden to be unsavoury, unflattering. He didn’t know a sense of humour so terrible it made Yuuri laugh was one of the things the Senior kept capped.

It increased Yuuri’s curiosity but also softened the sharp edges of it.

Smiling to himself, Yuuri shook his head and tried to focus his attention back on the book open in front of him, sliding the notification away and promising himself he won’t give in and look at the latest memes Victor sent him before he was done with his portion of reading for the day.

He gave in within minutes.

Tucking a finger between his teeth, he bit back his chuckles, not wanting to disturb others in the library and quickly forwarding the funniest two to Phichit. Just as he was about to exit the chat, another video was forwarded to him, this one of a guy doing lunges while his dog watched in curiosity before deciding he wanted to join in and attempting to do some, following his human’s lead by leaning down on his front limbs, tail and tongue wagging along. It was cute, it warmed Yuuri’s heart and he forgot to tone down his happy little gasp of adoration.

Immediately five annoyed high-schoolers were shushing him with such pure contempt in their eyes that Yuuri shrunk down. Mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ at as many people as he could, he turned back to his phone and typed out a quick message, the first he would send to Victor.

_‘Aren’t you supposed to be in class?’_

The text was seen within seconds and Victor started typing.

_‘Oh so we’re allowed to use our words?’_

Remembering to bite back his amused snort this time, Yuuri rolled his eyes.

Before Yuuri could respond, more texts flew in.

_‘To answer your question, yes._

_‘But it’s Chem :((‘_

Yuuri smiled.

_‘Excuses, excuses. You send me memes all through school hours. Don’t blame Chemistry.’_

_‘Are you complaining?’_

_‘Nope.’_

He really wasn’t.

_‘What’s your favourite subject?’_

Yuuri found himself stifling giggles again.

_‘Chemistry.’_

A keyboard smash was Victor’s reply making his outrage clear with the sheer number of random letters thrown in there.

_‘Yeah, we can’t be friends anymore.’_

Yuuri’s fingers stuttered. They were friends. Victor considered them to be friends.

There were a lot of people in the school who considered Yuuri their friend, that Yuuri didn’t count in his close ones. He didn’t mind, he liked the idea of people being comfortable around him and trusting him enough but he hadn’t especially cared, ever.

Before today, that is.

… because his teeth won’t stop worrying at his lip even as his eyes danced across the message again and again. Victor thought they were friends and Yuuri thought he’d love for that to be true.

_‘Aww :(‘_

He grinned when he remembered how proud Phichit would be when Yuuri would tell him he actually used the emojis on his keyboard.

_‘I can make it up to you?’_ He followed up.

Glancing at the book open in front of him, he realised he wasn’t actually going to get any work done today. With a sigh that felt more obligatory than something stemming from genuine remorse, he snapped the huge tome shut, shoved it in his backpack and got up to take his leave.

A blonde guy who had given Yuuri a nasty glare earlier rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated huff of relief now as he caught sight of him about to leave. Yuuri flipped him off, realised what he’d done, cursed Phichit’s influence, turned tail and all but ran out.

In his mad dash, he didn’t realise when he ran straight into a taller figure also headed towards the exit. His unlocked phone, screen still frozen over his Instagram texts with Victor, flew out of his hand at the impact and skidded away from the two of them… From him and Christophe Giacometti.

“I am sorry, I wasn’t looking.”

It should be illegal for anyone’s voice to be this smokey and alluring.

Yuuri nodded in apology himself, head still reeling with the strong scent of expensive cologne wafting off the Swiss man and watched Chris walk over and pick his phone up for him.

His eyes met Yuuri’s phone screen for one split second before he politely looked away but it was enough for his expression to tighten considerably.

“Thank you.” Yuuri muttered as Chris handed him the phone with a smile.

Victor had replied, _‘Now there’s a tempting offer if ever I saw one.’_

Yuuri didn’t know why the idea of Chris reading that message made him blush but what he was painfully aware of was the fact that Victor’s reaction had been incredibly similar when they saw Chris that day.

These two clearly had beef and Yuuri couldn’t deny he was curious.

“It’s no big deal.” Chis waved it off with a warm grin. His eyes were such a gorgeous green Yuuri had to check to make sure he wasn’t gawping with his mouth open. When he smiled, dimples appeared in his cheeks and Yuuri could now see what everybody meant when they said Christophe Giacometti was a gorgeous son of a gun.

“Aren’t you Yuuri? Katsuki? Gosh, I didn’t know you went here.”

“Yeah, um, yeah I do.” Yuuri’s mind raced, trying to figure out just _how_ Chris knew him if it wasn’t from school.

The Senior seemed to read his mind because he sidled up closer to Yuuri, throwing an arm around his neck that immediately made him freeze up. “I saw you in the pole dancing class at Buskers. I go there too, but on the weekdays. I just happened to have missed my slot that week and Gia said I could come with the Saturday batch. I don’t think you noticed me.”

Yuuri was vaguely aware of his face having steadily ascended through every shade of red known to mankind and turned purple. Oh, he definitely didn’t notice Chris. He’d have run away if anyone he knew was in the same room as the one in which he regularly hung himself off poles and became an insulting travesty of a sensual, confident pole dancer.

Then there was the fact that he had signed the class in as ‘alternative dance form’ in the school register which boarders had to fill out if they took any courses outside of school. Nobody except Mari (his sister and local guardian), Phichit and JJ knew he pole danced.

Chris, in a surprising show of perceptiveness, lowered his arm from the intimate hold he had on his neck to his shoulders and said, “I was amazed by your performance and you have no idea how badly I wanted a dance off but you were so intensely focussed and you didn’t take off your earphones once when you were off the pole so I thought you probably won’t want to be approached by a stranger.”

Yuuri had seconds ago agreed with the mass opinion that Chris was a very charming guy. Were charming people supposed to be this mouthy? He had always assumed they’d be more broody.

Maybe he needed to lay off Pride and Prejudice for a while. He was no longer sure whether he watched it for Kiera Knightley or Matthew Mcfayden anymore.

“Sorry about that.” He muttered, not sorry in the least.

“No, no!” Chris actually waved his hand in front of their faces like his impassioned dismissal of Yuuri’s apology wasn’t obvious enough from his loud exclamation. “Pole dancing can be quite scary in how much you have to let yourself go. It’s not like any other dance form. If the earphones help you cope, have at them.”

They were out in the hallways now, Yuuri never even realising when Chris led him out of the library. With another grin, Chris stepped back from him next to the stairwell.

“Later, cherry.”

Yuuri was convinced his brain had just melted.

…

A frantic discussion with Phichit about whether Christophe Giacometti was that _friendly_ with everyone, which was mostly just Phichit losing it over the Swiss’s butt and two mind-numbing hours of classes later, Yuuri stumbled on Chris again.

The guy didn’t look half as friendly anymore, but positively harried.

“Umm, are you okay?”, Yuuri stepped into the empty classroom, with Chris standing lone, pulling at his hair and actually groaning in frustration. 

“No!” Chris exclaimed, turning on Yuuri and continuing as if the Japanese boy’s appearance was totally a part of his personal script for life. “That fucker! That absolutely disgusting fucker!”

Glancing once at the group of students peeking in from the hallway, Yuuri came to a decision in a second and slid the door of the classroom shut. His next class was English as it was, and he was pretty great at it already since his anxious brain had been convinced he won’t survive in the States if he couldn’t speak English better than the citizens there.

“Which fucker?”

“Dino! That absolute pig lost my fucking geography file and now he wants me to fucking redo it!”

Ah, the Dreaded Geography File of Senior Year.

It was _thick_ and extremely detailed. Students usually took two months to complete one of the four instalments it was supposed to be submitted in all year around before it was tied up together for a final presentation, viva and written paper that made up for about 25% of the Senior geography students’ final grade.

Yuuri was firmly with Chris on this one, asking a student to redo that entire tome was torture.

“I’ll fucking need to start today itself if I want to bloody get this shit in within the week and I had a goddamned date with Masumi! I have been planning it for more than two weeks Yuuri!”

“That really sucks, Chris I am sorry.” Because it did. Having to give up a date with your loving boyfriend that you’d been excited about for two weeks to redo a file your bastard of a teacher lost? That was something that genuinely sucked.

… and then, as a courtesy that both of them knew was nothing more, he offered, “Is there something I can do to help?”

Chris sighed. “I’d love it if someone could grab me a good mocha but the pour in the cafeteria is swill so thanks, but you’re pretty much useless, cherry.”

Yuuri perked up.

“No, I am not!”

Chris gave him a curious glance and Yuuri practically beamed. With a smile highly reminiscent of JJ he said, “I keep a coffee machine and mini fridge up in my room.”

That coffee machine was the pride and joy of JJ, Phichit and Yuuri and the envy of the rest of the boarding given how all of them practically survived on coffee and like Chris, the rest of the student body hated the brew served in the cafeteria.

“Yuuri…” Chris whispered in awe. “Yuuri, you bitch, that isn’t allowed.”

His grin merely widened.

…

“How the hell have you not gotten caught?” Chris was still whispering as he stared inside the mini fridge. Strangely enough, that was everyone’s reaction when they found out it was Yuuri’s idea to sneak the two appliances inside. The three roommates let the boarders believe it was a daring, badass act of rebellion on their part, when in truth they had simply bribed the warden with the promise of two freshly brewed cups everyday. 

“Guess I am just lucky.”, Yuuri drawled. He wasn’t a flashy person at all, but this _coffee machine_ was Important to him. Chris was only the fifth person to drink from it, apart from the three friends and the warden.

“Sure you want a mocha? I make some great Sunshine.”

Chris turned to him. “Sunshine?”

“That’s the name JJ gave to it. Just trust me, okay?”

Chris hummed.

Fifteen minutes later, Yuuri was waiting in anticipation for Chris’s verdict as he delicately sipped the cold espresso and orange juice drink. He looked into Yuuri’s eyes, letting the flavour roll across his tongue before swallowing.

“Cherry, this is amazing.”

Yuuri’s shoulders dropped and he beamed before excitedly reaching for his own cup and taking a greedy mouthful. He really did enjoy this drink.

He thought it was pretty fucking hypocritical of him to be guilting Victor about sending memes in school hours while here he was, cutting class to show off his coffee making skills for a boy he had never spoken to before that day. He decided to not think about that, especially since Phichit had made him cut class often enough for him to have become kind of numb to it. His fingers, however, itched with the sudden need to text the Russian.

“Oh my god, hand over your cup.”

Curiously, Yuuri watched as Chris placed both cups on the windowsill and opened a camera app Yuuri couldn’t recognise, selected a filter and quickly took multiple pictures. Yuuri looked over the taller boy’s shoulder and pointed at the image he liked best which Chris immediately posted.

“Should I tag you? What’s your handle?” 

…

Yuuri had been back from dance class for a little over an hour and was idly scrolling through Twitter, which just so happened to be his preferred app. His handle was anonymous and his Tweets were mostly of an activist nature. As little as he liked confrontation in real life, ripping online trolls a new one was one of his favourite pastimes.

There was a knock on the door of his dorm and he staggered out of bed, slipped, felt too lazy to get up and crawled over to the door on his hands and knees, safe in the knowledge that it was just JJ and Phichit back from practice.

It wasn’t.

… that is, it _was,_ but it wasn’t just them. Victor was with them for some reason.

Yuuri was so baffled as he stared up at the three stunned faces that he forgot to feel embarrassed for a few seconds.

Phichit whistled.

“Now that’s a view.”, JJ laughed out loud. Victor gave a nervous grin and Yuuri blushed and shot to his feet.

“Is that the sort of welcome you receive every day?” Victor nudged Phichit’s shoulder. Whatever nerves plagued him a moment ago were now gone as he smirked teasingly. Yuuri rolled his eyes and dropped down on the bed with a loud and exaggerated huff.

“Hmm no.” Phichit placed a finger under Yuuri’s chin that was promptly shrugged off. “Only when this doll knows he’s angered his daddies.”

“Phichit!” Yuuri’s cheeks flamed and he was torn between slapping the Thai and covering his face with his palms.

Laughing, Phichit shrugged off his t-shirt before heading over to this dresser, which was essentially a cupboard each that they had to keep all their clothes stuffed in.

“Why the hell are you here?” Yuuri mumbled and if Victor was taken aback by the bluntness of his words, he didn’t react.

JJ slung an arm across Victor’s shoulders.

“Victor here didn’t have anything planned for the evening and wanted to grab a coffee with us, or something but with Phichit’s date and your expertise with the beans, I thought we should just bring him back here for a cup, especially since our coffee machine is now open to random strangers.”

“I am not a random stranger!” Victor cried at the same time as Yuuri said, “You are just mad your male muse grabbed a cup with me instead of you.”

“We are not talking about you, Victor.” JJ only responded to Victor and Yuuri smirked with satisfaction, barely resisting the urge to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Yuuri brought back a date to the room, this pig, when we explicitly said none of us would bring our dates back to the dorm.”

“It wasn’t a date.” Yuuri stated calmly and was ignored.

“Christophe fucking Giacometti.” Phichit bounced his head in emphasis between each word. Yuuri rolled his eyes and only remembered a second later to pay attention to Victor’s expression but by then he had already regulated his reaction into a politely confused smile.

While Yuuri had always disliked Victor’s plastic grins, after that day in the dance studio the fake curve of his mouth just sat wrong in his stomach now.

“My boy decided to invite Christophe Giacometti to the room and didn’t even give me a heads up so I could come and look at his bum.” Phichit mumbled, head still buried deep inside the clothes of his cupboard.

“He had to redo his geo file and he desperately needed a coffee. Get over it.” The Japanese boy intoned as he got up to snatch the shirt Phichit was looking for out of his own wardrobe. The stupid boy couldn’t even remember he had sleepily asked Yuuri to iron it out last night and he had just hung it in his own closet instead of fighting with Phichit’s.

Phichit gave him a grateful smile while JJ sprawled back on his bed.

“Make four of your Sunrises, Yuuri.” JJ ordered. If Yuuri hadn’t known JJ well enough to understand what a golden heart he had, he’d have chucked a slipper at his head for using a tone like that with him. “He makes amazing coffee.” JJ directed at Victor, who raised his eyebrows.

Yuuri itched to latch onto his cheeks and pull on them till he let his faux mask relax. 

“Do you?” The Russian questioned politely.

Yuuri smiled. It felt as sarcastic and fake as possible. Victor deflated and watched Yuuri turn away.

Clattering about, pulling the ingredients out of the fridge, Yuuri clenched his jaw. He didn’t understand his own irritation but he knew it was irrational. Victor didn’t owe him shit and he had no right to take the lack of genuineness in his eyes as a personal affront when it seemed to be the same for everyone.

He didn’t want to face the fact that as much as Victor’s openness that evening unnerved him, it also made him feel… special, like he was finally allowed in on a secret.

It pinched his heart to see Victor pretend in front of him again.

Setting his juice box and cold espresso jug on the table, he pulled out three glasses and one mug for three Sunshines and a hot espresso for himself. When he felt Victor come up next to him, he didn’t turn around or pause.

“So, Chris got to drink your coffee…” he started. High on irritation, Yuuri’s mouth went on autopilot. He twisted around and stared at Victor.

“What you’re gonna try to ‘claim’ me too?”

He clamped his jaw shut when he realised what he said a moment later. Behind them, JJ and Phichit burst out laughing.

“Claim you?”, Victor questioned, incredulous.

Yuuri rubbed his eye and cursed Victor for coming up here under his breath.

“All afternoon ever since these two idiots found out I brought Chris and made him coffee they’ve been joking about claiming me back and just come up to me and rub up against me like dogs, talking about getting their scents on me.”

“We need to let Chris know you’re ours.” JJ said, seriously, making the Japanese boy shudder and Victor laugh.

“Ah Yuuri if you want me to rub up against you all you have to do is ask.”

“God, what’s wrong with all of you today?!” He screamed, only being offered shameless laughter in response. 

Phichit, who had managed to change into the gorgeous pale yellow shirt and blue jeans, turned to Yuuri and gave him a searching look, probably to make sure he wasn’t feeling overwhelmed or genuinely uncomfortable. When Yuuri rolled his eyes and started adjusting Phichit’s collar to make it lay down flat, he smiled.

Grabbing JJ’s expensive ass perfume that he couldn’t ever remember the name of, he sprayed Phichit liberally with it before handing him his coffee.

“Who’re you going out with?” Victor asked, picking up his Sunrise and handing JJ the other.

“Seung Gil.” Phichit said, unable to bite back a soft, giddy smile that ultimately made the other three smile too. His eyes sparkled, cheeks colouring at the mere mention of the guy.

“He was being nervous for nothing,” Yuuri told Victor. “Seung Gil said yes so quick it was obvious he had been gagging for it. And why won’t he, I mean look at this.” 

“You look so proud of him. Like you’re actually his mom.” Victor said. They exchanged a quiet smile before he drew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Smoke, anyone? You can’t truly enjoy coffee without a cigarette.”

“Yeah, no, I have to go.” Phichit said, quickly knocking back his coffee and pecking Yuuri on his cheek as thanks. “And JJ here thinks he’ll drop dead if even a whiff of tobacco touches his lungs.”

JJ rolled his eyes but before he could try to explain to his friends how horribly disgusting of a habit smoking was, Victor interrupted him.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri grabbed his espresso cup.

“Sure but we’ll have to sneak up to the terrace.”

…

Victor had to haul himself onto the terrace, and then hold open the hatch for Yuuri because the warden for some reason thought taking away a staircase and all safe means to access the terrace would somehow keep a bunch of teenagers from climbing on to it. Victor snickered when Yuuri told him the warden won’t acknowledge people climbing in through this rickety structure that opened like a coke can top, because he didn’t want to admit his master plan to get students to behave had failed so spectacularly.

“Your warden sounds like he’s doing a really lousy job of this.”, Victor chuckled as he extended a hand for Yuuri to grab. Yuuri just shushed him, but was unable to help the grin on his face.

“Rule number one of sneaking into places you aren’t supposed to be in,” Yuuri whispered, determined to not need Victor’s support. “Keep your mouth shut.”

Victor straightened when it became obvious that Yuuri wasn’t going to take his hand and folding his arms across his chest, watched the Japanese boy struggle with an amused grin. When he spoke his voice was low.

“I thought he didn’t acknowledge people were doing this.”

“Oh, he doesn’t.” Yuuri was aware of Victor’s eyes on his forearms and was suddenly worried that the ripped hockey player was judging his less muscular dancer’s limbs. “That doesn’t mean he won’t follow your obnoxious voice up here and pull me down by my pant leg if he sees my butt hanging down this stupid hatch.” 

Pushing up with all his strength, he lifted himself up, and shoving a sneakered foot in the space between his hands, stood up, dusting his hands and clothes of non-existent dirt and hoping Victor won’t recognise it for the nervous action it was. 

The sky was dark around them and Yuuri thought he was stupid for his initial surprise at that. Just because it was light when he returned to the dorm didn’t mean it was going to stay that way. Next to him, Victor bent down suddenly and Yuuri startled, only to realise the man was merely retrieving their coffee cups that he had placed on the ground because he needed his hands free.

Victor gave him a strange look upon straightening, but handed him his cup wordlessly. With a jut of his jaw, Yuuri indicated to the makeshift benches they had picked up rocks, and arranged, to resemble. The two walked over, sitting on two big slabs of rock, while using another to hold their drinks.

Victor offered him the pack of cigarettes and held the lighter as Yuuri lit up, following himself seconds later.

With the very first exhale Yuuri felt his limbs loosen and for the hundredth time, hoped Mari won’t find out about his new habit because of how long he had spent making fun of her for doing the same.

“What are you thinking about?”, Victor asked as he sipped his Sunshine. The glowing tip of the cigarette dangling by his fingers was a gorgeous, gorgeous orange against the indigo sky.

The wind blew around them, gentle, persuasive, just how Yuuri liked it. He suddenly wished he had made himself a milkier, creamier frappe. The rush of energy the espresso would lend him seemed like a direct affront to the silent, calming night. 

For a few moments, he watched the stars above them, trying to decide how to put _‘I hate myself for picking up smoking after I spent years clowning on my sister for burning her lungs with her own damn hands, am terrified she’ll find out and rat me out to my parents as revenge, and hence want to give up but am completely sure I won’t’_ without sounding like the stupidest, most self-important and weak-willed moron to ever breathe.

“I hated this when I was younger. I thought it’d kill my sister one day.” He held his cigarette to his lips for a second, before sucking in a harsh, impulsive drag.

“We all learn to rely on things we know aren’t great. I guess, it’s just part of growing up.”

That sounded shitty and Yuuri was about to mention that but Victor, in what he was starting to realise was typical Victor fashion, interrupted.

“Sometimes I wish I could have the determinedness of seven year old Victor. He was a handful to deal with, but he was so much… _better,_ you know?” 

“In what sense?”

Yuuri had a vague idea about how seven year old Yuuri was better than his present self too, but he suspected Victor’s reasons were somewhat different and otherwise entirely unrelated to anxiety.

“He wasn’t so confused all the fucking time.”

“You cussed.” Yuuri couldn’t help himself. “Ah n-no I mean, what are you confused by?”

Victor didn’t bother to bite back his helpless little laugh. They let the subject die down.

Victor’s eyes were incredibly blue, now that there were no other colours around to water down the shade except for the startling alabaster of his skin, Yuuri found himself fixating on them. 

His eyes trailed from the glowing cigarette tip, to the web of stars in the night sky, to the seas in Victor’s eyes and decided he must be incredibly fond of things that glowed in the dark.

It was only the cool, mellow beauty of the night that allowed that thought to pass through his head unchallenged.

“You know had anyone ever asked me I’d have bet good money on you not being a smoker.”

Victor giggled. “That’s ridiculous and if Yuri was here, he’d slap you for that one.”

“JJ doesn’t smoke.”

“If you haven’t noticed, JJ is a _bit_ of a pretentious twat.”

“So, all non-smokers are pretentious twats now? I am offended on behalf of my parents.”

Calmly, Victor put out his cigarette and lit another. His coffee was finished.

“No, they aren’t. I just never miss an opportunity to abuse JJ.”

Between chuckles, Yuuri gasped out, “I get the urge, I so do. Damn, can’t even fight you on that. When we first met him, Phichit and I used to gang up on him and have all out prank wars. That’s how we drove our fourth roommate away!”

“What sort of pranks?” Victor perked up in curiosity and just because he could, Yuuri teasingly refused to tell him.

Plus, he was pretty sure Phichit had videoed all of them and he’d rather Victor saw them firsthand. One day, he promised himself and watched Victor whine.

He calmed down a minute later and gave Yuuri a pouty glare before muttering something to himself. It was ridiculously adorable and Yuuri only laughed harder.

“Seriously though,” his tone became serious. “How did you get along with Chris? I can see your personalities clashing a lot.”

Yuuri frowned.

“You’re so not subtle.”

“I am so subtle it’d make you lick your words right off of the soles of my shoes.” Victor raised a brow and Yuuri was painfully aware of how true it was. “I am just not trying to be right now.”

“Why?”

“You were right in the studio that day,” Victor’s fingers shook as he moved to light a third smoke, but Yuuri covered his hand, making him stutter mindlessly till Yuuri pulled away, the packet of smokes in his grasp, safely away from Victor. “It does get tiring.”

Unprecedented and yet with a clear, steady build-up you could only recognise in hindsight, like any decent epiphany, it struck Yuuri. What they had been doing all this time, this back and forth, like giving away pieces of themselves to each other, slowly, cautiously. It was like a dance, Yuuri would share a part of himself and then Victor would follow up and it had started that day in the dance studio, continued over Instagram and now, sitting here alone, three stubbed out cigarette buds and two empty coffee cups between them, they were still dancing, slow as always but definitely surer.

… and it was his turn.

The cool breeze ruffling his hair and the bewitching beauty of Victor’s eyes could do nothing to calm the storm building rapidly in his chest, _fast, scary and intoxicating all at once._ He stared at Victor, suddenly aware of the fact that Victor Nikiforov, the man he had spent so long carelessly dismissing for his more than misleading public facades was looking to open up and to him of all people.

Yuuri licked his lips and gulped.

“Yuuri…” Victor trailed off, a clear inquiry as to whether he was okay curling in his tone.

Yuuri shook his head, and smiled. Up here, in the dark and quiet, it felt like nobody was ever going to touch them again. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Victor?” He blurted out, because for some reason, in his incredibly socially awkward brain, that was a perfectly apt question for the moment and needed to be asked _right then._

Victor frowned but took it in stride.

“Purple. All purple tones.” And then, a lot more hesitantly, “I like pinkish shades too.”

“I love blue.” Yuuri replied with an ever-broadening grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to check out my other YOI fic you can go here- [Until I Find You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792974/chapters/57159007) It is basically a married!Victor AU where Yuri is his son and Yuuri is his teacher so yeah. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Leave me feedback.


	5. (you) soothe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's learn more about the Nikiforov-Plisetsky family, shall we? With a dose of fluff towards the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Song of the chapter!](https://youtu.be/G8y-WyBrNgQ)

When the doorbell rang, Victor almost sighed out loud, nerves clanging noisily in the back of his head like they were made of steel at the very idea of facing his uncle. His mother had never taken well to his ‘obnoxious’ huffing and puffing, though, so he bit it back and silently went to open the door.

He was relieved to find it was only Nikolai.

“Grandpa.” He smiled, and almost leaned in for a hug. Nikolai had stopped hugging both Victor and Yuri when they turned ten, deeming physical depictions of affection beneath ‘men’ but neither Victor nor Yuri had truly forgotten how safe and comfortable they felt in Nikolai’s warm, bear hugs and faced with Nikolai’s familiar dark eyes Victor once again found himself wishing he was seven again.

“You’re looking good.” Nikolai gave Victor a quick once-over and then nodded in approval, before shrugging out of his coat.

Victor reached out to take it from him, and smiled.

“Didn’t you have a big game this month? Your mother told me about it.”

Of course, she did. Victor was her most prized possessions and Katia Plisetski was, by nature, a terrible show-off.

“It’s not until next month.” Victor replied once he finished hanging up Nikolai’s coat, following behind the old man’s surprisingly quick footsteps, given how bad his arthritis had gotten recently.

“Would you like to come?”

His parents always came and never stayed to chat. Victor had figured out it wasn’t him they came for, years ago. Nikolai would though, he would be there for no other reason except that he was proud of his grandsons and Victor couldn’t remember why he never asked before.

The sparkle in his grandfather’s eyes belied the mouth that remained pursed tight and Victor kicked himself again. He really should’ve asked Nikolai to come before today.

The man nodded, and handed his phone to Victor so he could set a reminder. Victor felt a giddy smile press against his lips.

Nikolai had barely finished hugging his daughter before the doorbell was ringing again. Deeming his parents a safe distance away and more than occupied, Victor let out a tiny curse for there was no mistaking it now. Nobody else had been invited tonight.

Setting Nikolai’s phone aside, he went to get the door again and sure enough, two blonde men stood in his doorway, matching scowls on both of their faces.

Igor quickly schooled his own expression once the door opened, a smirk as cocky as Yuri’s spreading gracefully across his mouth. Victor supposed with how similar Igor and Yuri looked, it was only fair that their mannerisms were the same as well. Yuri borrowed his pride from his father but while Yuri had natural talent and a spiky but huge and kind heart to show for it, Igor had money and a temper quicker than the devil’s if he felt slighted in the slightest.

Victor hated the man.

“My favourite nephew.” Igor enveloped Victor in a hug ignoring Victor’s hands spread out in a silent request for his coat. Behind his father, Yuri rolled his eyes and moved to hang his coat away.

“I am your only nephew, uncle.” Victor smiled when Igor stepped back.

“A shame, that. I kept telling Dimitri having only one kid was an absolute waste of Katia, but when has your father ever listened to anyone?”

Sweeping past Victor down the hall, Igor’s voice trailed behind him and Victor didn’t bother biting back his groan of frustration. Igor hadn’t taken off his coat, would remember it fifteen minutes later and then send Victor away to hang it for him like he _always fucking did._

“Grandpa here?” Yuri asked from next to Victor.

“Yeah, in the living room.”

“Cruella in there?”

Victor scoffed, but didn’t protest Yuri’s nickname for his mother too much, considering how he didn’t much disagree with it. Her love for fur and her thinly veiled cruelty were the first things one would notice about his mother.

“How the fuck did these apples fall so far away from the tree?”

Victor smothered a snicker behind his fist as he followed Yuri to where everyone else was gathered.

Together, Victor and Yuri stepped into the living room, their eyes finding each other for a split second in a silent show of camaraderie before they turned to the strikingly familiar scene. Nikolai always sat in the very armchair he was presently occupying with his daughter perched on the armrest, and Yuri’s father was already by the drinks cabinet, riffling through his brother-in-law’s collection as Dimitri tried his hardest to keep himself from telling Igor to not touch his precious bottles.

He bit back his words, _once again_ though and Victor clenched his teeth as he remembered how that was not a courtesy six year old Victor had been offered.

“How the fuck indeed.”, he muttered. Yuri shook his head.

“At least Grandpa’s here.”

One of them said that to cheer the other one up nearly every single night of these dinner parties. It was usually Yuri, and he always sounded like he needed the reminder more than he felt Victor did.

Come to think of it, the first time Victor had felt any sort of a bond begin to form with his cousin, it had been one of these dinner nights. Victor was eleven then, and still desperately trying to find love for himself in the cold eyes of his family members. He had just been to a family dinner at Chris’ the night before though, and had been struck by a wonderful idea by which he could bring everyone to feel closer to each other.

At Chris’, he and his parents cooked dinner for their entire extended family. Everybody set up the dinner table together and ate amidst laughter and conversation, as opposed to the heavy and compelling silence of Victor’s own family dinners. He had come back home and excitedly demanded Katia and Victor cook the meal at the next dinner party by themselves, already too old to kid himself into thinking his father would want anything to do with it. Katia had immediately scoffed and rejected his request, but amusedly let him set the table.

Victor had been excited that night, and beamed so wide as he carried cutlery and dishes and napkins, Nikolai’s approving eyes on him as he rushed from the kitchen to the dining hall. After dinner ended, he had been running around for some reason, and tripped. Igor had laughed.

Victor, usually a happy, cheerful kid, had nearly begun crying because he had tried _so hard_ and set the table _all by himself_ and yet no one had looked any happier. No one was looking at Victor like how Chris’ family looked at him.

That was when Yuri had come scampering over, eyes huge with concern. He hadn’t yet started stacking brick after brick into sky-high walls around himself and he had innocently asked if Victor was okay.

Victor had taught Yuri how to fold napkins into swans that night and never set another table in his life again.

…

The strange thing was, after over a decade of knowing Yuri Plisetsky, one still couldn’t definitively say _anything_ about him.

“I am gay.” He blurted out over dinner out of no fucking where.

Victor choked on a sip of wine. Everybody else seemed to have ceased to breathe.

His eyes immediately found Igor though, who’s face was already setting into stone. The Plisetskis however, from Nikolai to Katia to Yuri, all had incredibly expressive eyes and Victor felt a chill race through him at the look in Igor’s.

Silence stretched on across the table, as Yuri took the time to look all of them in the eye, his gaze steadfast and unflinching even when it turned to Igor. For his cousin’s sake, Victor quickly schooled his face into a supportive smile, deciding to interrogate Yuri over _why_ he decided to risk his life today later, in private.

“Back in my day nobody felt the need to announce things like this.” Nikolai huffed out. His face didn’t look forcefully neutral, his voice held no disapproval. He looked… exactly how he looked seconds ago.

“I still don’t understand why you younglings need to make a huge thing out of it. You don’t owe it to anyone to explain who you love.”

Yuri smirked, a tight, sharp thing. Sitting next to Igor, the similarities between the two were unsettling, and for no good reason. Why acknowledging the similarities between a father and his son made Victor’s stomach twist, he could never tell.

“Wouldn’t want to give you a heart attack if you caught me sucking face with a guy out of nowhere.”, Yuri quipped.

His relationship with Nikolai had always been freer than Victor’s. Victor used to be jealous of Yuri’s friendly ease around their grandfather, till he realised it wasn’t that he was specifically barred from joking and messing around with Nikolai. It was simply that he never would, too terrified of losing the one blood relative who seemed to care. Yuri didn’t seem to have such fears and that was no reason to feel bitter towards the boy for.

At the head of the table, Nikolai returned Yuri’s amused expression.

“I wouldn’t have had a heart attack, boy. I would simply have smacked you up the head. What business do you have sucking anyone’s face at your age? Kids these days are in a rush over everything.”

Victor weakly remembered he was younger than Yuri when he lost his virginity and it was no trouble burying the fact miles and miles away from the conversation.

Despite the light-hearted conversation between Nikolai and Yuri the rest of the table was pointedly and painfully silent, Igor most noticeably refusing to look at his son. Victor decided he was going to make Yuri stay the night and then nearly six thousand more.

“What about you, Victor? Anyone caught your attention, yet?”

Victor startled at his name, completely unaware of the last few words exchanged before that, so caught up was he in scrutinising Igor’s every expression to figure out how bad the bruises would be on Yuri the next day.

“Uhh, no. No, there’s no one I am interested in.” he laughed awkwardly, absently remembering he hadn’t had the time to forward Yuuri a link to that clip of a panda eating bamboo that he had found recently. 

“Why? You’re at the right age to be sucking face.” Nikolai intoned.

Down the table, Yuri protested, loudly. Before Victor could let himself be too amused Dimitri broke in.

“When I was Victor’s age I had already found Katia, and set my sights on her. How could I not, she was such a gorgeous, intelligent woman, the perfect partner for any decent, respectable man.”

Yuri did a good job at not reacting to the obvious jibe in Victor’s father’s words. 

“Even so, these things take time sometimes,” Katia began, her eyes sympathetic and trained on fucking _Igor_ , instead of Yuri. “You know girls are so much huffier these days, and you can rarely find yourself a good one. Boys lose hope and get confused. It’s okay to take a while, figure things out. There are so many… _options_ made acceptable these days that boys give up so quickly. You have to have patience with the right woman, with the woman that’s worth it.”

Her poisonous gaze had inched over to Yuri and though her voice remained smooth, her jaw sat tight. Yuri faced her head on, not letting his eyes stray for a second.

This was strangely unsurprising to Victor because with Yuri, anyone would expect him to burst out in indignant defence of himself faced with such things. However, if the fear coiling in Victor’s chest was even half as bad as what Yuri must be feeling just then, it made perfect sense for him to not tempt fate anymore. Even Nikolai won’t let misbehaviour with adults slide.

Victor thought Yuri was already immensely brave for coming out in the first place.

“Well”, Nikolai began, his tone heavy and final, almost as if challenging his company to oppose him. “Whenever you find a nice, smart boy to fall in love with you bring him over to mine for dinner, Yurachka. Even you Victor, you get yourself a wom-… partner, and you both come over. Got that?”

Victor almost immediately began to correct Nikolai that there was no need for ambiguous terms when it came to him because he was straight. Not that he didn’t support Yuri… he just wasn’t like him.

They didn’t need to worry about him.

… and then he noticed the curl of his mouth, and the disgust in his eyes and even though his discomfort with that implication was perfectly justifiable to himself, right now Yuri needed all the support he could get. So he smiled and nodded and bit his tongue when Nikolai continued,

“You are such handsome lads both of you. You will find yourselves equally amazing partners in no time.”

…

Yuri excused himself to the washroom after dinner, and Victor followed immediately after him.

Grabbing a hold of Yuri’s arm he dragged the boy all the way up the stairs into his own bedroom. 

Victor’s heart hadn’t stopped racing all through dinner and as soon as the door shut behind them, he very nearly burst out.

“What were you thinking?! Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

Yuri’s face remained downturned, his fringe falling across and concealing half of it. His voice lacked all venom when he replied, nearly a minute later.

“I thought this through very carefully, baldy. I wasn’t going to get a better chance.”

Victor scoffed at that but when he opened his mouth he realised he didn’t have enough information to dispute Yuri’s statement.

“How was this a good chance?”, he tried to keep his voice in check, even though his entire being roared in barely contained fury, fury at Yuri for risking himself like that. Why he ever needed to say anything Victor didn’t know.

“Grandpa’s coming over to stay tomorrow, has some business in our area. Said he would be there for like two weeks. My bastard father has tonight, just tonight to get some of his anger out so it doesn’t build into something even more dangerous. Hopefully he won’t kill me, considering grandpa will be there tomorrow and he _knows_ now. He also knows the bastard doesn’t like it. After he leaves, I go over to his, and then to yours and by then Igor would have found something else to be mad at… and well, I don’t fucking know, Victor, okay?!”

Victor blinked as Yuri’s head whipped up and there,… there were those furious green eyes, angry and refusing to back down despite the glossy film of tears covering them. Victor felt something unclench in his chest and he realised Yuri’s lack of anger was only serving to heighten his fears.

Like he’d go down too easy, like he won’t consider this a battle worth fighting at all. 

“Grandpa will be there tomorrow, and I wasn’t going to… there won’t be a better time…”

“Why did you have to say anything to those fuckers at all? You could’ve just told me and grandpa…”

Victor trailed off as he watched Yuri ball his fingers into fists by his sides, his shoulders squaring out as visible conviction rushed through his frame. He had never looked so sure of something before.

“Because I fucking wanted to! I wanted to do this. It wasn’t something I was going to hide because then I felt like I was agreeing with them that it was… that me being… that I should hide my truth away like a dirty secret. It isn’t dirty anything and you don’t get to hold this decision against me Victor, you are not going to be mad at _me._ ”

Victor ran a hand over his face and sighed, almost missing Yuri’s furious kicks and angry little jabs whenever they argued. This distance between them served all too well as a reminder of how huge this was… how unreal… how unacceptable…

How scary.

He was scared.

He was so scared.

“I am not mad at you… I just… I wish you’d have told me before.” Victor babbled nonsense, pretty sure the words that could adequately sum up all the hot emotions lashing against his heart would all be too big, too clunky, too _giving_ to ever be voiced, or understood.

He didn’t understand his owe emotions.

“Like even before, I just never thought… you never looked like…”

Victor watched a bitter scowl twist Yuri’s face.

“Guess I forgot my rainbow eyeliner.”

“I didn’t- what… Yuri!”

His own bedroom door slammed in his face was all the answer he received.

…

Unable to bite back the mounting frustration in his chest, and utterly unwilling to face Yuri again, given the fact that he didn’t really understand what he’d said to warrant a storming out, Victor grabbed his smokes and went off to the lawns through the backdoor.

He was met with Nikolai, who raised a brow at the stick clutched in his fingers, before tossing a lighter at him.

Victor caught it on instinct and then he noticed Nikolai was smoking. His grandfather only smoked when he was stressed out.

He lit up in silence, watching smoke curl away into the cloudless night as they stood side by side. It was a good few minutes before Nikolai spoke again.

“Yurachka is a fucking idiot.”

“It was his decision and we don’t get to hold it against him, or be mad at him.” Victor repeated, without much conviction. His body felt heavy suddenly, and he figured conveying Yuri’s thoughts about that particular sentiment was the least he could do to make up for whatever monumental way in which he had managed to fuck up with the boy again.

Nikolai, however, simply huffed in amusement and turned his knowing eyes on to Victor.

“Were you mad at him?”

Victor felt his irritation grow.

“No! Yes! I don’t know!”

“It’s one thing acknowledging what he did was stupid, another feeling angry at him about it. Is he the one we should be angry at for him not being safe inside this house?”

Victor shook his head.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Nikolai shrugged, and turned away.

“Might be so, but your anger proves that you’re placing blame on the wrong person here. And that is all he can see right now.”

Victor sighed, unable to deny the validity of Nikolai’s words, even as his brows pulled together in pouty indignation.

“Get your shit together, Vitya.” Nikolai said, a hand landing on Victor’s shoulder in a kind pat. “We need to be there for him. This isn’t about either of us.”

Why Victor’s heart won’t understand that and stop thundering was as fascinating a mystery as any.

Absent-mindedly, he fished out his phone from his back pocket and had already unlocked it before he purpose found him. Quickly bringing up Phichit’s Instagram account, he held up a solo shot of Yuuri for Nikolai to see.

“This is the guy he _may_ have a thing for. He is older to him, a year under me. At school. Honestly, I would think motorcycles and leather jackets would be more Yuri’s type.” 

Nikolai hummed, eyes roaming Yuuri’s smiling profile with interest.

“He looks handsome. I’ll give Yurachka that.”

For the first time in what seemed like hours, Victor felt his mouth curling a little.

“That he is. He is also a very talented dancer, and he’s smart. He’s the top of his class constantly and he’s so kind, grandpa. Very strong too. And ridiculously proud, guy got such a bad cramp that day and didn’t feel comfortable accepting help. He also makes amazing coffee and he’s a talented dancer, did I tell you? I will show you videos, wait.”

Nikolai waited. Victor failed to notice the calculating gaze he settled onto Victor’s face.

…

It was hours late into the night when Victor found the chance to send Yuuri the panda video. Yuuri immediately liked the message.

…

It wasn’t until Monday that Victor saw or heard from Yuri. His messages and calls had been ignored over the weekend and Victor would have been worried if Yuri wasn’t constantly posting random cat videos on his Instagram stories. Knowing Yuri, that was his coping mechanism, ignoring any and all interaction with actual humans and burying himself in feline cuteness, which he then felt compelled to show off to the rest of his friends as well.

Knowing Nikolai was at Yuri’s Victor had let himself breathe and started sending Yuri pictures of cats back.

When Victor saw Yuri in the hallway on Monday before classes, the blonde guy was actually having a halfway civil conversation with Yuuri and Phichit. He didn’t particularly look any worse for wear, there were no visible bruising and Victor let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Guys, what’s up?” He stuck his hands in his pockets and tried to appear nonchalant as he walked up to the tight huddle. To his credit, he managed to keep his eyes from immediately assaulting Yuri and hence putting the younger boy on edge. He let his gaze roam over Phichit and Yuuri instead, both of who smiled at him, not noticing anything odd with either Victor or Yuri.

It wasn’t until lunch break that Victor dragged Yuri into an empty classroom and they actually got a chance to talk.

“Are you okay?” Victor questioned, the tension in Yuri’s shoulders making a lump form in his throat as he recalled the way they had parted that night. All of a sudden, he had convinced himself Yuri hadn’t been ignoring him because he was trying to cope with something, but because he simply didn’t want to talk to Victor.

… to make matters worse, Victor still couldn’t tell what he had done wrong!

“I don’t need an asshole like you to worry about me!” Yuri seethed and Victor gritted his teeth, unable to understand how he was supposed to have even a loosely constructive conversation with someone as childish and petty as Yuri.

The realisation made him pause though, and his breath stuttered in his throat.

Yuri _was_ a child.

He was fifteen, and going through something nerve-wracking with zero familial support on his side. As far as Victor knew he didn’t even have any real friends. The poisonous anger in Yuri’s eyes tumbled into a softer shade of green, a little less goading, a lot more pitiful. Yuri needed help, he needed support, he didn’t need whatever it was Victor was doing here.

Victor still couldn’t tell what he had said to upset Yuri so terribly but it wasn’t the time to get stuck on ‘you said this, so I said that.’ Victor needed to be there for Yuri, because no one else was going to.

So, Victor threw his arms around Yuri and didn’t let him go despite his furious squirming and steadily worsening language.

“I am sorry I was such an asshole the other night.”

He didn’t truly know what he was apologising for, because despite his new resolution to support Yuri however he could, _he still couldn’t tell what he had done wrong._ He figured apologising was as good a start as any though, and from there he could move on carefully avoiding any sore topics till he could tell what was the right thing to say at any given point and what wasn’t.

“I don’t know why I was expecting anything else from you.” 

The statement stole a gasp from Victor, because only when the layer of hurt thickened in Yuri’s tone did Victor realise it was there in the first place. Yuri wasn’t just angry, he was genuinely hurt and Victor loathed himself in that moment.

Yuri’s shoulders remained tense under Victor’s touch but he stopped protesting Victor’s embrace so Victor felt it was safe to move forward.

“Yura, I can be stupid sometimes, you know it.” (Yuri scoffed at that.) “But I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you and I will do better. I will be a better person for you.”

He had known Yuri since the kid was born and he knew the gruff shrug he received was the best he was going to get. He finally allowed Yuri to stop out of his arms.

His eyes were still laced with apprehension, and Victor knew a simple promise to be better wasn’t going to cut it this time, till he truly acted on it.

“We’ll see about that.” Yuri muttered.

…

Before practice that day Victor found himself googling ‘how to talk properly with a homosexual person’ which wasn’t helpful in the least. The articles google spat back at him ran around in circles, pointing out _obvious_ shit that Victor knew he didn’t do.

Don’t be homophobic? Check.

Don’t try to ‘reclaim’ the f-word for them? Check.

(Victor honestly couldn’t tell who’d even do something like that.)

Don’t out them without their permission? Check.

Don’t act like you are afraid of them perving on you? Check.

Don’t try to act gay? Check.

(Why would a straight person act gay anyway? It just looked weird.)

Frustrated, Victor clicked on to the second page of the search results which was even less helpful because most of them were rants about ‘PC police’ or how everyone is offended by everything these days and while Victor didn’t understand a lot, he understood _that_ wasn’t it. Any article with the words ‘pansies’ and ‘real men’ was trash, he quickly learned.

With a tired groan he exited his browser and tossed his phone into his open sports bag, which sat right beside him on the bench.

By then, other kids had started filing into the locker room and Victor quickly wiped his face of its harried expression, joining JJ and Phichit with a smile when the two walked in.

…

That night Yuuri was the one to initiate their meme exchange.

It was only when Victor caught sight of the notification on his phone screen that he realised he had been radio silent on Instagram for the entire day and that _had_ to be looking weird.

Quickly diving into his folder of baby pictures, Victor pulled up one of him and Yuri when Yuri was six, uploading it with a simple black heart emoticon, because he knew Yuri didn’t like sappy captions. That done, he moved onto his chat box with Yuuri.

They had been texting a bit more ever since that night on the rooftop, texting with actual words. It always left Victor with a smile, and like he couldn’t wait to see the other boy and talk to him in real life again.

Real life interactions, however, had been a bit more limited.

While Yuuri definitely seemed more open to conversation now than he had previously been, they just couldn’t seem to find the time to properly see each other in school, and Victor still couldn’t decide if asking Yuuri to grab a bite with him would look too weird.

He didn’t think it should but what if it did? Victor didn’t want to seem clingy.

_‘Hey’_ he typed in quickly. _‘how was your day?’_

_‘Fine. Ms. Okukawa wants me to sign up for this dance competition falling right on Phichit’s birthday. I am still trying to figure out how to get out of that one.’_ Yuuri replied.

_‘Does Phichit know?’_

_‘Are you kidding?_

_‘He would start throwing a fit before I even get to the part where I asked Ms. Okukawa to not list me for that one.’_

Victor grinned and flipped onto his stomach, stretching his legs out till they hung off the bed from the knee onwards.

_‘That does sound like him.’_

_‘How was your day?’_ Came the reply.

For a second Victor considered telling Yuuri the truth. Phichit was his best friend, and _very_ flamboyantly gay. If Yuuri had managed to deal with him without saying anything to hurt him, then he must have some pointers of Victor, he figured.

When he went to type in the message though, his fingers froze because what would he even say? Teach me how to be decent around the gays?

That was such a strange text to be sending to someone, and even the thought of Yuuri thinking of him as a braindead, homophobic asshole had Victor dry swallowing in nervousness.

_‘It was a bit tiring. How about yours?’_

_‘I just told you how mine went.’_

Victor smacked his forehead. Well, no choice but to flip the topic. Quickly scanning the last few days for a topic to engage Yuuri in a conversation about, he landed on the party Mila was going to host that weekend.

_‘Are boarders allowed to go out for parties?’_ He asked, never mind what ab obvious attempt at distraction that was.

_‘We usually have a downtime and most parties start after it so, technically, no._

_‘Is this about Mila’s? Isabella hasn’t managed to stop talking about it.’_

_‘Yeah, well, I don’t blame Bella. Mila knows how to entertain. Will you guys be there?’_

_‘JJ is definitely going, Phichit might as well. I don’t know about me.’_ And a second later. _‘I am not a party person.’_

Well, that was… disappointing. More so than it had any right to be, really.

Victor was almost surprised at how quickly his smile had dropped, given seeing Yuuri at the party wasn’t even a thing on his mind till seconds ago.

_‘Well, that sucks. I’d have liked to see you there.’_

A string of laughing emoticons was what he received in response. Victor wondered if he should mind.

_‘I am sure there will be a lot of people to keep you company there.’_

Victor sighed, because Yuuri was silly and that wasn’t the point.

_‘That’s true. It would still be better with you around anyway._

_‘Plus, I think its time I saw some of those Salsa moves in real life.’_

_‘Oh my God, Victor.’_

Victor couldn’t stop the huff of laughter falling out of him, all the worries that had plagued him through the day already miles away.


	6. This Mess Was Yours (Now Your Mess Is Mine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A LOT happens in this chapter, but I have a cute, little surprise for y'all towards the end ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, surprise updates seem to be my thing. 
> 
> Here is the [song](https://youtu.be/1C816p-KTNk) for this chapter!
> 
> More importantly, this fic will be updated every Sunday from now on. You know what that means, folks. You're getting another update within seven days.

The more time Yuuri spent with Victor, the clearer it became-Victor’s big secret was probably that he was an absolute dork.

His jokes swung violently between mean and corny, and it never failed to make Yuuri laugh. He had read more books than Yuuri could possibly _name._ He didn’t have a preferred brand of cigarette but he adored charcoal milkshakes and absolutely refused to get one from anywhere but his usual place because apparently, nobody else could make them right.

Yuuri was quickly, steadily growing fonder of Victor, already beginning to count him as one of his close friends. 

Hanging out with Victor, talking to Victor, all of it was way more fun than he had originally expected and JJ was delighted by the new developments because that meant he could now add Victor to their super exclusive WhatsApp group chat named _Snitch, bitch_ that previously only had him, Yuuri, Phichit and Isabella. JJ was ridiculously obsessed with that chat for some reason.

Phichit also seemed glad Yuuri had make an actual friend who wasn’t a roommate or a lover of a roommate.

Victor, however, was the one who constantly seemed to be over the moon about their new friendship. He would excitedly show Yuuri random things he found interesting on the internet, tell him thrilling facts that he also seemed to have an endless capacity to hoard because apparently, he was a full encyclopaedia, and rant to Yuuri over text about annoying teachers or teammates. It almost seemed like he couldn’t get enough of Yuuri, which made no real sense because most things Yuuri contributed to their conversations seemed boring in comparison to the whirlwind that was Victor Nikiforov.

A couple weeks into their friendship, Yuuri was the one to hunt down Victor’s Twitter and follow him, because as it was, he couldn’t get enough of Victor either. He wanted to know everything, store away every little thing about the man because none of it was knowledge carelessly given away, every bit more precious than the one before.

One Saturday, Yuuri and the Roommates decided they needed to check out the new Indian place downtown for lunch. It was going to be just the three of them but then JJ invited Isabella and Seung-Gil mentioned to Phichit that he’d been wanting to try that place as well and… Yuuri called Victor.

“Friends don’t let friends be third wheels, you know.” Was the first thing he said when Victor picked up.

“Mhmmm.” Victor sounded amused.

This was another thing Yuuri liked about Victor. He never seemed thrown off by Yuuri’s randomness, always going along with it with a slightly disbelieving and largely amused smirk on his face. It was nice of him, Yuuri thought.

“So you shouldn’t let me be a third wheel. Or a fifth wheel.”

“Let me guess? You made plans with JJ and Phichit but they want to bring Isabella and Seung-Gil as well?”

“Such bastards. Can you believe it?”

There was no bitterness in Yuuri’s tone. He loved Isabella, and he had to Officially meet Seung-Gil at some point. It would be best done with a group of people he felt comfortable around.

“Absolutely not, the audacity. So you want me to come along and help you not feel awkward when they inevitably start smooching?”

“Basically.”

“On it.”

…

The restaurant was nice enough, and Yuuri had been enjoying himself till the waitress approached them.

At the head of their table, JJ had boisterously ordered a Pork Vindaloo despite _everyone_ telling him it would be too spicy for him. Isabella had just sneakily signalled their waitress to tell the chef to reduce the amount of spice he’d normally put in.

The waitress was now standing between Yuuri’s and Victor’s seats and Yuuri, who hadn’t decided what he wanted yet, was stuck in a spiral of _‘oh my god, I am never going to recover from how embarrassing not knowing what you wanna order when your server asks what you wants actually is’._

He looked to Phichit as Victor listed what he wanted but his best friend was busy giggling at whatever Seung-Gil was muttering, which was doubly annoying because Yuuri couldn’t imagine a single scenario in which Seung-Gil could be funny.

“And you, sir?” The waitress smiled at Yuuri.

Yuuri stared at her, mind suddenly unable to come up with a single Indian dish to blurt out the name of.

“He hasn’t decided yet. Could you come back in a minute?” Victor smiled and the waitress nodded, not seeming affronted or mocking in the least as she rounded the table to go to the Traitor and Unfunny Man, next.

“Thanks.” Yuuri muttered, and immediately started scouring his menu.

He only looked up when Phichit’s cheerful voice listing his order was interrupted by Seung-Gil’s cold ‘no’.

Yuuri looked up to where Seung-Gil sat with his eyes on the menu card, posture now suddenly looking more dismissive than stoic.

“You should get this Idli thing.” He said to Phichit. “You don’t want all the calories Chole Bhatura has.”

The waitress raised a brow. Yuuri gaped. Next to him, Victor looked confused.

“I-…” Phichit hesitated, expression looking confused, but then he quickly plastered a smile onto his face and turned to the waitress, probably deciding to smooth over the situation quickly. “That’s right. One Idli-Sambhar for me, please.”

“We’ll take a Chole Bhatura, as well.”, Victor piped up, softly bumping Yuuri’s shoulder.Yuuri nodded and sent Phichit a smile.

When their food arrived it seemed like Victor had ordered a little too much for himself, and that his portions alone could feed the entire table. Yuuri didn’t even mind that he didn’t get to order for himself because courtesy Victor, he had three delicious smelling dishes that Victor _insisted_ he try, minus the Chole Bhatura. 

“You could say I have a natural talent for picking out the best food by name alone” Victor muttered with his mouth full at one point, and Yuuri chuckled, unable to challenge that statement because this bun-type dish called Dabeli sitting in front of him was, in fact, delicious.

“Mmmmm, Phichit, this Chole Bhatura is amazing.” Yuuri said. “You should try a little.” And then he slid the entire plate across the table and towards Phichit, who grinned and tucked in, eating his way through nearly one of the two Bhaturas before handing it back to Yuuri.

Seung-Gil didn’t say anything, eyes on his own Dosa.

Lunch was fun, overall, despite Seung-Gil’s weird behaviour. The Pork Vindaloo did turn out to be too spicy for JJ, but he was determined to eat through all of it, anyway so they decided to order dessert quickly, going for something called Doodh-Jalebi that Isabella insisted she had tried before and loved.

It wasn’t much to Yuuri’s liking but he enjoyed it either way.

“I want ice cream after this.” Victor declared.

While JJ and Phichit cheered in excitement, Seung-Gil abruptly stood up, his dessert still untouched.

“I’ve somewhere to be, now. Thanks for inviting me.” He gave Phichit a sideways glance. “You can stay, of course.” Then, he pulled out his wallet, laid what would turn out to be his exact total on to the table, and left.

Everyone stared after him, and then unanimously turned to Phichit, who was looking at the exit of the restaurant with a disappointed expression on his face. Slowly, he stood up.

“I better go see what that was about.”

“Peach-…” Yuuri began but Phichit waved him off.

“Cover for me. I’ll pay you back.” He said before leaving.

“Are those two fighting?” Isabella asked.

“That looked less like fighting and more like one sided passive aggression.” Victor muttered.

Moods thoroughly ruined, they didn’t go for ice cream. Isabella suggested they go visit their local animal shelter, because she knew that was a sure fire way to cheer all of them up, and they headed over there instead.

In the passenger seat of Victor’s car, Yuuri felt worry overtake him. He pulled out his phone and texted Phichit, asking him if he was okay and sighed, heavily.

He didn’t know who had done what to piss Seung-Gil off, or what that entire thing with not letting Phichit order what he wanted was about. His _best-friend-mind_ was rushing through a thousand scenarios in which Seung-Gil was the devil incarnate and Yuuri needed to help his best friend out of the Korean demon’s clutches, but he knew he was being too hasty in judging the guy. Everybody had off days, and what Seung-Gil had said to Phichit was just a suggestion after all, and maybe he did have somewhere to be… truth was, he didn’t know anything about Seung-Gil and that was putting Yuuri on edge.

… because what he _did know_ was how much Phichit cared about Seung-Gil.

“Hey,” Victor called out to him at some point in the drive from the restaurant to the shelter. His voice was soft. “They’ll be fine. Phichit will be fine. Every couple, hell, every pair of people related to each other in any sense, go through difficulties some times. It’ll blow over, you’ll see. Trust me.”

“Did we piss Seung-Gil off or something? Because I really can’t tell where we messed up.”

Victor snorted.

“I am the worst person to ask, Yuuri. I seem to have a habit of fucking up and not being able to tell what I did wrong.”

Yuuri sighed.

Victor didn’t say anything for a few minutes, worrying his lower lip with his teeth instead, eyes contemplative. Yuuri didn’t ask him what he was thinking about, instead choosing to wait patiently for Victor to mention what was on his mind, if anything was.

Eventually, Victor started talking.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while. Did you have any difficulties talking to or like, behaving right around Phichit after you just found out he was gay. Not, not in the way this sounds, ugh, like, how did you make sure you never accidentally offended or hurt him?”

Yuuri blinked.

“Just don’t be a jerk, ummm, it’s hard to accidentally be homophobic when you’re not, you know, in real life.”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Yuuri knew this was some of the shittiest advice he’d ever given. He paused, and thought about why all of this came easily to him, before taking a deep breath and deciding if he was going to say anything, he better make it worth it. Even if it was going to be slightly embarrassing to himself.

After all, this was still a dance.

“See, I know it’s not as easy as it sounds. I come from a very, very small town and you know me, I don’t talk to a lot of people. There were some girls in my ballet class when I was little, who were very jealous of how good I was so they took to bullying me. Telling me ballet wasn’t something real boys did and that I must be like _those men,_ instead.

“I didn’t know what they were talking about, what ‘those men’ meant but I let their words get to me. I decided I was going to quit. My sister was having none of it, though. She knew I’d rather cut off a limb than willingly quit ballet. So she sat me down and actually _grilled_ me till I fessed up.” A tiny little smile surfaced out of nowhere and Yuuri didn’t try to stop it.

“Then, she talked to me. About gender stereotypes, and how they didn’t mean shit. About how boys could do whatever they wanted and girls could do whatever they wanted because interests are rarely gendered. About how being born with certain genitalia wouldn’t determine my gender anyway, so ‘girl things’ and ‘boy things’ were just made up nonsense. About who ‘those men’ were and I shouldn’t take being called one as an insult.

“My point is, if we hadn’t had that talk, I would have come to the States completely ignorant and probably more than a little bigoted. I guess what I am trying to say is, we only act right when we realise what _is_ right, Victor. I can’t give you hard and fast pointers on how not to mess up because thanks to my sister, I haven’t grown up with any space for homophobia inside of me. I know that’s no great achievement of my own. I was taught to do the right thing, so I did, and I don’t really know how to help you, I am sorry.”

By the time Yuuri was finished speaking, Victor had pulled over, all his attention focussed on Yuuri’s words instead. His face was set in a contemplative frown and he seemed overwhelmed. Suddenly, Yuuri was worried he had over done it.

“I.. don’t think I am homophobic. I mean, my parents are horrible and I instinctively knew everything they believed in was wrong, and they _are._ They are very homophobic. All of my family is. Someone came out recently, and I think I have really messed up with him, and I can’t figure out what I’ve said wrong. My grandfather thinks its cause I was angry at him-…”

Yuuri felt his eyes widen.

“Wait, you were angry at him when he came out?”

“No!” Victor cringed. “It sounds awful when you put it like that! I wasn’t angry at him! I was angry because I was scared for him! He risked his safety when he came out. His dad is a monster. I was just worried and he, I think he gets that Yuuri because he wasn’t mad about that. He stormed out when I told him I wished he had given me a warning, a heads up, just let me prepare myself better. I really hadn’t imagined…”

Yuuri felt fairly sure he knew who Victor was talking about, (given the multiple and incredibly long anti-homophobe rants Yuri had taken to post on all his social media) but decided not to mention it unless Victor did. As for a where Victor had messed up, it was glaringly apparent, and Yuuri wondered how Victor couldn’t see it.

“Did you imply you were shocked by him not being straight?”

Victor paused, the anguish on his face suspended for a second.

“Well, I was.”

“Was that because you weren’t expecting him to be gay, Victor?”

“Not expecting something when it happens is generally the lead-up to shock, yes.”

Yuuri raised a brow.

“Why were you not expecting it?”

“Because he didn’t seem gay!”

Yuuri gave Victor a helpless smile that he couldn’t bite back in time. Victor stared at him, unable to understand what had happened to put that expression on Yuuri’s face.

“What?”, he asked, tone sharpened by his confusion.

“Whatever image you have in your mind of a non-hetero person, is not always true. You were stereotyping him. He was probably hurt by that.”

“Stereotypes only exist because they’re true in some capacity.” Victor muttered, but the words seemed more a reflex than something he believed. His eyes left Yuuri’s as his mouth fell into a small pout, the gears in his mind visibly turning inside his skull.

He looked adorable.

“Oh, because all Russians are stone cold bitches with no empathy. All feminists are misandrists. All old white men are racist. All African Americans are criminals. All blonde girls are stupid. All Indian guys are creepy perverts. All-…”

“Yeah, okay! I got it, you can stop!” 

Yuuri shook his head. 

“No, you haven’t and that’s okay. It’s supposed to take time, Victor but at least now you know one of the things you need to avoid.”

Victor shook his head, scrunching his eyes shut, fist tight around the steering wheel that he had grasped at some point, and Yuuri felt pity well up in his chest. Victor looked so cut up that he couldn’t help himself and he reached out, grabbing a hold of Victor’s shoulder and pulling him forward into the most awkwardly distanced hug Yuuri had ever experienced.

“Oh, okay.” Victor muttered, confusedly, but he loosely draped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders anyway.

Yuuri, on his end, had planned to say something encouraging and motivational, something to soothe the reality check Victor really hadn’t signed up for, but was now busy subtly feeling Victor’s firm biceps and shoulders with awed admiration. He couldn’t help but imagine how girls felt wrapped up snug in Victor’s arms. They were barely hugging and he could already tell it must feel great.

“Um…” Victor trailed off, awkwardly and Yuuri shook himself out of it. He tightened his grip around Victor’s neck anyway, and nearly cheered when Victor reciprocated by pulling him in closer.

The problem was, all stupid, inspirational words had flown out of his mind some six seconds ago.

“Is this meant to be a show of support?”

“Uh… yeah?”

Victor chuckled and buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder.

…

The shelter turned out to be a great idea, Yuuri noted and then wondered why he was surprised. Animals cheered everyone up almost instantly.

“We should get Phichit a pet!” JJ had suggested at some point and Yuuri simply rolled his eyes, but it was really hard to wipe the grin on his face when he was being showered in wet kisses by three of the cutest Labrador pups he’d ever met. 

“Phichit lives in a hostel. With us.”

“Oh yeah” JJ said, like he had actually forgotten that for a second.

“Get him something small, something easy to hide.” Victor suggested from where he sat amidst a huge pile of puppies and kittens and Yuuri felt vicious, hot jealousy course through him at the sight.

“Like a hamster.”

Fifteen minutes later JJ could be found pouting and _loudly_ complaining about how he really didn’t deserve that bad of a stink eye for asking if they had hamsters in the shelter.

“It’s fine, we’ll buy one from a legit pet store on our way back, okay? With a cage and everything, cheer up!” Isabella patted his back.

“Well I need to step into the office for a second” Victor said and Yuuri found himself frowning, because he knew for a fact Victor was a dog person… and he was presently carrying a fluffy Siberian _cat_ to the office.

So, he followed, naturally.

“Hey you adopting?” He asked when he caught up with Victor, his hand immediately flying to stroke the cat’s little head, despite the frown on his face.

Victor laughed.

“A cat? No. I’d be convinced she hated me and then hang myself within two days. I am a dog person.”

Yuuri smirked because, _of course,_ he knew that.

“I am adopting her as a present to Yuri, you know with everything that has happened. I figured he deserved a solid apology and he’s always wanted a cat.”

The grin on Victor’s face was one of the sweetest things Yuuri had ever seen.

“That’s really nice.”

Victor nodded.

“I just want him to know how proud I am of him, even though I was worried.” He said a second later. “He’s brave. He’s so, _so_ brave. Reckless, but brave. A Gryffindor through and through.”

Yuuri chuckled.

“A what, now?”

Victor rolled his eyes, a soft blush on his cheeks. His voice rose in indignation and he frowned at Yuuri.

“Yeah we’re both Harry Potter nerds! Big deal!” And then he paused. “… wait, Yuri was so into Sirius Black! How did I not see this before?!”

Yuuri laughed.

“Tough luck. JJ’s Tumblr writing stint has me convinced Sirius was obsessed with Remus.”

“Yeah, but, why would Sirius be gay?”

“The trick,” Yuuri smirked. “My dear friend, is to ask yourself why won’t xyz be gay till the answer you come up with is ‘yeah, why the hell not?’”

Victor shook his head but a few hours later that very night Yuuri received a Snap from Victor that was an image of the cat in a very cute wicker basket, wearing a black collar with yellow lettering spelling out ‘crazy but cute’ on the side. Attached to the basket was a note that very clearly read:

_‘To dearest Yuri,_

_Here’s a little coming out present for the bravest Gryffindor I have ever known. Now Yuuri introduced something to me so I had to look it up, so that’s whom you have to blame for me edging towards Team Wolfstar, but for the record, I was originally rooting for Yuri Plisetsky x Sirius Black.’_

Yuuri laughed.

He was so giddy, in fact, that when Victor asked, he even said yes to going to Mila’s party the next day.

…

Yuuri had been right about how great it felt to be wrapped up in Victor’s strong, muscled arms… especially with the way Victor was crowding him against the edge of the table.

What Yuuri hadn’t anticipated was exactly how good it felt to be kissed by Victor.

Heaving up on his palms, Yuuri lifted himself on to the table top. Their mouths parted for all of one second and Victor groaned in frustration, threading his fingers through the back of Yuuri’s hair and crashing their mouths together again. Yuuri moaned, spread his legs and scooted forwards till he could wrap them around Victor’s hips.

Victor’s half-hard cock rubbed against Yuuri’s from over their clothes and Yuuri bucked forwards against him. Victor’s hand immediately dropped down to the small of his back, holding him still while thrusting his own hips forward. Yuuri’s head fell back in a sharp gasp of pleasure.

“Victor,”, he moaned.

Victor trailed kissed up the side of his neck, his grip bruising, now holding Yuuri’s body steady as he drove into him. Their faces were red and all Yuuri could taste or smell was the alcohol they had been drinking before. His mind was swirling, his eyes ringing with the terrible but catchy pop music Mila had playing downstairs, and he found he couldn’t really think beyond the intense knot building in the pit of his stomach.

He was kissing Victor Nikiforov. He couldn’t remember why, but just then, it felt like the best damn thing he could ever do in this entire world. __

He was so glad he came to this party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O :O
> 
> Hint: Yuuri is not dreaming.


	7. never say what's on my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor does all the right things, for all the wrong reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Song](https://youtu.be/bXzLZ7QQnpQ) for this chapter!

Yuri loved the cat, which became apparent when he didn’t bother to complain about it. It never failed to amuse Victor, how a complete lack of complaints was the biggest indicator of Yuri’s gratitude anyone would get. When he was leaving Yuri’s place that night, however, he was stopped and given a hug by the blonde boy and Victor couldn’t stop grinning all the way home. 

He was in a good enough mood to not let his mother’s judgemental scowl dampen his spirits when he got back home. She had made her disapproval of animals in the house very clear and despite all of Victor’s attempts to explain the cat was only going to be in there for like fifteen minutes till he fixed her basket and attached a note, the mere presence of (newly christened) Potya was seen as a personal affront to her.

Victor had already decided he didn’t care though.

“I had dinner at Uncle’s with Yuri and Grandpa.” He informed her, and didn’t bother to wait for a reply, skipping his way up the stairs and into his bedroom. Once the door was shut behind him, he let out a sigh of relief.

Today had been quite something.

In retrospect, it seemed obvious, much as Victor still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Nobody liked being stereotyped and while that was a fact Victor still didn’t get why it was that big of a deal. He hadn’t exactly said anything factually incorrect.

What he did know, however, was that even beyond the realms of micro-aggressions and internalised bigotry, he didn’t get to dictate somebody’s feelings for them. Yuri had felt hurt by something he said, which he shouldn’t have, so he needed to apologise and do better. It didn’t need to be any more complicated than that.

So, he had apologised, and only felt better for it. Yuri looked so… happy, or as happy as a child like Yuri could look, when he read the note.

… and it’s not like the note had been a lie. Furthermore, Victor had grudgingly come to expect that some of the artists making that ‘WolfStar’ art were amazing at their job and Victor may or may not be hooked.

(He had also sworn to himself he was going to hunt down JJ’s fanfiction Tumblr, simply for shits and giggles at the cocky Canadian’s expense, but that was besides the point.) 

He threw himself onto his bed and pulled out his phone. He didn’t have any new messages so he started checking his social media. As was to be expected, one Yuri Plisetsky had posted multiple story updates devoted to one Potya Plisetsky and Victor forwarded all of them to Yuuri.

He was happy and he was going to do better.

After having thoroughly combed his main account, Victor switched to his finsta, that he once shared with Chris. They used to follow people they didn’t like or want on their main accounts but still needed to keep tabs on from that ID.

If anything was going to bring Victor down today it would of course be the memory of Chris.

Guilt had started festering in Victor’s stomach the day he drove Chris out of his life, much as he refused to acknowledge it but in light of today’s events, it hit him harder than ever.

He had fucked up, back then.

As time went on, his stupidity became more and more obvious to Victor but he couldn’t bring himself to truly face it because doing that would mean admitting everything Chris had had to say about him was right.

… and that was humiliating.

It meant facing the hurt pouring down Chris’ face in a steady stream of tears that day hadn’t in fact clouded his judgement when he had told Victor:

_“You don’t support me, you don’t support us. You’re just looking to spite your parents. You’re a mean, piece of shit who is using the lives and identities of people like me to prove to himself that he is better than his parents and that is one of the most pathetic things you could ever do.”_

Victor shook his head, whatever he had opened his finsta to check, already forgotten. His hand fell back, phone bouncing lightly on the mattress before coming to a stop. He licked his lips and sat up.

Now that wasn’t right.

Chris wasn’t right.

Yes, he had behaved poorly. He had been caught off guard! Of course he wasn’t his best self! Couple that with the fact that he rarely knew what he felt or what he needed to be feeling at any given point, and really, smacking Victor in the face with shocks like that without any prior notice was a recipe for disaster!

It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t any of what Chris had said he was, and who was he kidding, really? Chris probably didn’t mean any of that himself. He had been angry, Victor told himself.

Victor wasn’t a secretly homophobic jerk who didn’t care about his friends and he was absolutely _nothing_ like his parents. He was a good human being and a good friend, as well.

He was going to prove it.

Resolute, Victor pulled up Chris’ Instagram handle. It was public, and Victor used his finsta to stalk him sometimes, just to check up on his old friend. It wasn’t anything creepy, of course.

It was actually through his finsta that he saw the picture Chris posted in which he tagged Yuuri, the one with the coffee cups. Victor still couldn’t tell why looking at that picture had immediately made him want to go find Yuuri. It had been surprisingly easy, tricking JJ and Phichit into inviting Victor to have Yuuri’s coffee as well. In the back of Victor’s mind, he counted that as a win even if he was still unsure what he had won.

Presently, he opened Chris’ chat box and quickly typed in a short text:

_‘Hey, meet up tomorrow? I wanna talk.’_

…

Victor wasn’t so much counting on Chris accepting his invitation. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself, he only sent that text to absolve himself of some of the blame. He had reached out, and he wanted to be turned down, ignored, _something_ to help him feel a little less like the asshole he had been feeling like ever since his talk with Yuuri.

However, Chris accepted. It was a Saturday as well, and despite it being the day of Mila’s party, Victor figured he still didn’t have a good excuse to postpone a plan he, himself proposed.

Plus, if they sorted things out, maybe they could appear in the party together. That’d be quite the surprise and Victor did love surprising everyone.

So, he sat in the little cafe he and Chris once used to frequent. He had been feeling anxious enough that he got there a little earlier than the time they had both agreed on. Sitting there with nothing to do, he called Yuuri.

“Morning,” a groggy and half-annoyed voice answered from the other end.

Victor chuckled.

“It is like eleven in the morning. Were you seriously still asleep?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Yuuri grumbled and Victor laughed harder.

“What did you want?” Yuuri asked a second later, and Victor’s smile dropped.

_What did he want?_

Why had he called? There was no reason. He had time to kill and somewhere along the way, talking to Yuuri had become his favourite pastime.

He floundered for a good enough response to give. He couldn’t very well say he called _just like that._ That sounded weird, didn’t it?

“I was just worried about Phichit.” He lied, and then cringed. Phichit had been nowhere near his thoughts all day, and he felt like a shitty friend.

“Oh” Some of the animosity disappeared from Yuuri’s tone, only serving to make Victor feel worse. He bit back a curse.

“He said it was nothing. I am very worried.”

Victor frowned.

“But he said it was nothing.” He repeated, like a fool.

He could almost imagine Yuuri rolling his eyes when he heard the exasperated huff that followed that statement.

“Nothing is ever nothing with Phichit. He’s a very talkative person, and he always has something to say about everything, Victor. He never brushes me off like he did last night and I don’t know how to get him to talk. It’s usually me who needs a little push to open up. Phichit has always been easy to talk to, and now all of a sudden he is hiding things from me. Something is wrong.”

Victor listened to Yuuri’s little monologue, brows furrowed. He knew he didn’t know Phichit as well as Yuuri did, but he couldn’t help but feel Yuuri was overthinking this just a little.

Every couple had off days. Maybe it really was nothing, after all.

“Sometimes though we need to give people the benefit of the doubt, don’t you think?” He nudged, gently.

“Well, duh! What else do you think I am doing? They haven’t reported the murder of a Seung-Gil Lee on the news yet, have they?”

Despite himself, Victor chuckled.

“Okay, now that is a definite overreaction. Yuuri, you have to understand that even though you and Phichit are best friends, he and Seung-Gil are in a relationship now and there’s going to be a lot of things that happen between them which, frankly, are none of your business. It’s natural for Phichit to not discuss everything about his relationship with you because this isn’t just about him anymore. There’s a whole another person involved, and privacy is very much still a thing.”

“Uh-huh I get that.” Yuuri intoned.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this, Victor, especially not first thing in the morning.”

Victor hummed.

“Alright, have you decided what you will be wearing tonight?”

“Whatever in hell makes you think you can share a room with Phichit Chulanont and retain outfit-picking privileges, especially when according to him, you dress like a ’55 year old golf addicted middle class dude going through a divorce’?”

“Now I really wanna know what you wore to leave that impression.”

“See, I don’t agree with Phichit’s assessment so normally I’d have no problem showing you but something makes me feel you’re going to back him up, so I’d rather not.”

Victor shrugged.

“I mean, I do think his fashion sense is everything it needs to be so maybe I will, you know. Well, I’ll just ask him. I am sure he has a picture or two.”

Yuuri snorted and Victor gripped his phone tighter. Something about that sound made his stomach fold into nervous knots and he really wanted to hear it again.

“Have fun trying. In Phichit’s own words, I am his pet project and he will never let my dark past resurface.”

“Yuuri!…” Victor heard himself whine.

That was when Victor spotted Chris, running a hand through his hair as he entered the cafe. Gulping, Victor held his hand up to wave him over.

“Yuuri I will have to call you back, okay?”

Victor’s heart picked up speed as green eyes found him. He saw Chris’ jaw tighten and knew despite Chris agreeing to see him, this wasn’t going to be easy in the least.

“Victor” Chris nodded as he reached the booth. Victor felt an insane urge to stand up.

“Hi” he said instead, hands neatly folded atop each other on the table.

“Let’s order.” Chris said as he began to remove his scarf and coat. Victor flagged the waiter down.

“A blue-berry iced mocha for me and uh, Chris… do you still want the eggs and cappuccino.”

Chris nodded and Victor felt foolish hope bloom in his chest. He still knew somethings about his friend at least. He had gotten _something_ right.

Once the waiter went away, Chris turned to face him fully.

“What did you need to talk about?”

Surprisingly enough, when the question came, Victor found himself prepared.

“I am sorry I was such an ass to you. You deserved better, you deserved a best friend who’d be in your corner as you went through something life-changing and I fell short. I let my… biases get in the way of our friendship and I needed to say I am sorry.”

Chris stared, blinked, and continued staring.

On his end, Victor held Chris’ gaze, barely flinching.

“Umm I was expecting this,” Chris admitted “But somehow it has still caught me off-guard.”

Victor raised his brows.

“You were expecting this?”

Chris sighed, tearing his eyes away. For the first time, since he had walked in, the stony impassiveness receded from his features and he frowned.

“I was wrong, too. You aren’t a bad person, not at all and I knew you were going to realise your mistake sooner or later. I am sorry I called you those awful things, Victor. I felt hurt and I wanted to hurt back.”

Victor had waited a long time to hear Chris admit he wasn’t as bad as Chris had made him out to be, and yet he felt no relief.

If anything, he felt shittier.

He hadn’t meant to apologise, had he? He hadn’t even truly wanted to come here.

In some ways, Victor couldn’t help but face it now, he was just as shitty as Chris had said he was. He was selfish and he used people to make himself feel good because his parents had spent their entire lives making sure he felt absolutely horrible about himself.

When tears rose to his eyes, Victor didn’t try to blink them away. Chris needed to see his guilt, know he was sorry. Victor owed it to him.

He reached out for Chris’ hand.

“I really missed you.”

The grip of Chris’ hand was just the same as Victor remembered it. His hand was still bigger than Victor’s and that little fact only made his heart feel fuller, his tears come faster.

“I missed you too, Victor.”

…

_Victor was fifteen and his best friend had just told him he was gay._

_He hadn’t said anything. He had gotten up and left because he didn’t know how to cope with it._

_By the time Victor had gotten home, he was already cursing himself. He shouldn’t have left Chris there alone, that wasn’t the sort of person he was. But he was also infuriated because who even was Chris? Had he ever even truly known him? How could he have hidden something this huge from Victor? Victor had thought he was normal, and he treated him so. It was unfair to Victor for Chris to be so deceptive about something so important._

_Everything had changed._

_All of the hugs Chris had given Victor felt dirty all of a sudden, filled with intent Victor had failed to pick up on. The sleepovers they had had… in the same bed, no less. Victor had thought nothing of it then. It was just friends hanging out. He had even changed in front of Chris._

_And now it turns out it wasn’t just that after all._

_Victor felt disgusted. Chris had no fucking right._

_By the time Chris dared to call Victor, Victor was still cursing himself. Not because he had left Chris alone this time, but because he had allowed himself to be tricked like that. He had fallen into the clutches of a nasty pervert._

_When Victor picked up the phone, he told Chris the same._

_… and then Chris started telling him what he actually thought about Victor._

_… and then Victor cried._

_… and then he lost his best friend._

_…_

_It was a quiet falling-out. Most people who had known Victor and Chris back then had noticed when they suddenly stopped hanging out together, but no one had an idea as to what actually happened. Chris didn’t come out immediately so nobody put two and two together. When he did though, Victor realised he was the first person Chris confessed to, the only person Chris felt comfortable enough around to share that part of himself. That was when Victor started feeling shitty._

_He didn’t actually start seeing what was wrong with his reaction till he noticed no other guy friend of Chris’ had abandoned him like that. As it seemed to be… nothing had changed. Not in Chris’ life._

_Victor, however, was now all alone._

…

Showing up to Mila’s house together did create the ripple Victor had been anticipating. The grin on Chris’ face told him he felt the same.

Somethings truly never changed.

The person who looked the most surprised however, was Yuuri, which was thrilling because Victor enjoyed surprising Yuuri the most of all.

“You two made up.” He said when Victor and Chris approached him at the kitchen counter-top turned bar, where he stood talking to JJ and Isabella.

“Wait, they were fighting?”, JJ frowned.

“You knew?” Chris asked.

This time, Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“Of course” he said. “Anyone who knows Victor knew.”

Victor didn’t know why that statement seeped right into his skin and settled into his core, warm and comforting in its weight.

_Yuuri knew him._

He smiled.

“Wait, I didn’t know!” JJ protested. Yuuri simply chuckled.

“My point still stands.”

That is when Victor noticed what Yuuri was wearing.

He felt his mouth fly open.

He… hadn’t truly realised how good Yuuri’s legs looked but his tight leather pants were leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination and the picture they presented was damn near perfect. Furthermore, the deep blue of Yuuri’s shirt suited him very well. A couple of buttons had teasingly been left undone and his hair was slicked back. Victor feared for the hearts of all the women around them who caught a sight of Yuuri tonight. 

… minus the lesbians of course.

… oh, and plus the gay men.

… or any gender non-conforming people who were into men.

See? He was inclusive.

“You look great.” He told Yuuri.

“Doesn’t he?” A happy and very clearly intoxicated voice screamed out from a distance to be heard over the music.

Victor whirled around to catch sight of a, for some reason, shirtless Phichit.

“Why are you not clothed?” Chris smirked. Victor didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed all over Phichit though, taking their time to appreciate all of him. Victor smirked. This was interesting.

Then, he remembered Phichit was taken and visibly deflated. He knew how picky Chris could be. He had tried to set him up with so many girls and he always turned them down.

Right there and then, Victor gained firsthand experience of a meme-worthy lightbulb moment.

“My skin clothes me.” Phichit, who had walked over to their little group said, eyes serious.

“That makes absolutely no sense.” Yuuri blinked.

Phichit leaned forward to press his face close to Yuuri’s and then, he screamed,

“MY SKIN CLOTHES ME!”

Yuuri struggled to push him away and JJ said something that made Yuuri scream louder than Phichit had but Victor wasn’t paying attention.

… because after however many years, he was listening to his best friend’s laughter.

…

“Okay, so you promised me a Salsa performance.” Victor said to Yuuri at some point.

“I never did and even if I had, I am too sober to start dancing in front of everyone.” Victor watched Yuuri’s eyes grow comically large with panic and couldn’t control his laughter. A _dancer_ on a _dance team_ had no business looking this panicked at the thought of _dancing_!

“See, now that is something I know how to fix.” And so Victor embarked on his quest to get Yuuri drunk.

What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was Yuuri’s legendary self-control because the boy didn’t take a second drink, no matter how hard Victor tried.

Just when Victor was starting to considering bribing the two cheerleaders in the other corner of the room to start… well, cheering ‘chug, chug!’ the perfect solution to his problem arrived in the form of a very drunk Yuri Plistesky challenging someone Victor couldn’t actually see into a drinking game.

Grabbing a hold of Yuuri’s hand, Victor dragged him over before the boy had a chance to protest. He nearly bumped into a clearly drunk person dancing about two rooms away from the designated dance floor and he glared at Yuuri when he dared to giggle.

“We’d like to play whatever it is you’re playing!”

Yuri narrowed his eyes and then smirked, his eyes travelling up and down Victor’s body in the most exaggeratedly mocking way, ever.

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

Now, Victor was mostly counting on Yuuri’s competitiveness to rise up to the ridiculous challenge he _knew_ his cousin was going to throw down, but instead, it was himself who was being challenged and mocked like a loser.

He glared at Yuri and then turned to glare at the other person he had just challenged, for good measure. It turned out to be Mila which, honestly, he should have foreseen. Nobody irritated Yuri to pieces like she did.

“We’re in.” He said. Mila shrugged, Yuri grinned and Victor turned to Yuuri with a smirk on his face.

“Nothing stands between me and your dance performance now.”

He watched Yuuri’s own eyes narrow, his mouth falling into a careless grin, like he didn’t even care enough to tease Victor properly. He took a step closer to Victor, so that he had to crane his neck up to look into Victor’s eyes, and despite that Victor was the one with his breath caught in his chest.

“Simpleton. I won’t lose.”

And then, he didnt.

Of course, _of course,_ Yuri would doing everything he could to be of absolutely no help because as it turned out, the game he wanted to play was something called ‘Red Hand’.

As it _also_ turned out, Yuuri had a ridiculously high pain threshold as well as an unshakeable poker face.

Victor and Yuri were the ones wincing or crying out the most, and they were the ones being driven to intoxication with shot after shot after shot being thrust into their hands. Yuuri only had to do four and only seemed tipsy, really.

Soon, Victor was drunk enough that he exclaimed he couldn’t go on anymore, and flopped back onto the couch. While Yuuri was _still_ smirking.

He tried to glare but he was informed he was pouting quite adorably.

“I can’t believe you guys,” Sara said when she came over to them, drink in her hand. “We’re at a party! This is not the sort of game you play at a party!”

Yuri, with a hand redder than a tomato, tears in his eyes, and sheer willpower holding them back looked all too fussy for someone who was losing so miserably at the game they suggested.

Victor laughed because that was funny. Yuuri turned to give him a fond, little smile so of course, logic ordained that Victor needed to put his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuri looked even less pleased by that then by Sara’s interruption of their deathly game.

“Oh? What do you suggest we play?” Mila quirked a brow. “Truth and dare?”

She probably meant it as a mockery but Sara so no shame in admitting that was exactly what she wanted and within seconds, she had somehow managed to gather a small group of people to crowd around the sofa set they were sitting on. Chris dropped down next to Victor. Phichit was (annoyingly) stuck to Yuuri’s side. JJ and Isabella were saying something bad enough that Mila had to bodily restrain Yuri and Sara had just spun the bottle.

Oh! Victor realised. They were playing spin the bottle.

It stopped on JJ, the other end pointing at Phichit.

“Truth!” JJ grinned, and Yuri immediately started boo-ing him. Victor joined him because it sounded like a fun sound to make and then he began enjoying it so much that Chris had to slap a hand to his mouth to get him to be quiet.

“Okay, what was the first thought in your head when you saw Isabella?” Phichit asked.

Had Victor been sober, he’d have felt compelled to coo at the way JJ’s eyes softened.

“I couldn’t believe I was looking at someone hotter than me. That was literally impossible before her.”

It sounded obnoxious enough, but in JJ-land, that had to count as some sort of a marriage proposal. Isabella, who was fluent in the national language of JJ-land, seemed to understand that for she gave her boyfriend a deep and filthy long kiss.

Yuri started gagging. Victor thought that seemed like a fun sound too but before he could try it out for himself, the bottle was spun again and apparently drunk Victor’s attention span was shorter than a goldfish’s.

The next person it landed on was Chris.

The person supposed to ask the question was Yuri.

“Dare” but absolutely no one was surprised at that, of course.

“You won’t take off a single item of clothing tonight, at all.”

Chris looked outraged, and interestingly enough, Victor noted, so did Phichit.

The next round was spun and it landed on Mila, who chose dare again.

“Recite that poem you wrote about Sara’s butt last year!” Yuuri said and that earned him a wave of laughter. Mila flipped him off and then began reciting a poem that was subsequently recorded and spread all over Snapchat.

“Roses are red,

Foxes are clever.

I like your butt,

Wanna touch it forever.”

When the laughter got too much she exclaimed nonsense like “I was drunk!” Or “I am going to get you good, Yuuri!” Nobody paid her any attention.

The next person to go was Phichit, who chose truth again.

The person supposed to ask the question was Victor, and he being a good friend, a great gay-supporting best friend, actually, asked Phichit;

“On a scale from 10 to 10, how much would you like to date Gris Chiacommetti?”

It took him till the end of the game to realise he had said the name wrong but the point was that since the scale was 10 to 10, Phichit had to say 10, and Victor grinned proudly at Chris.

“See how I played this?” He asked, expecting to be thanked.

Chris just laughed, and that was terribly rude.

The bottle landed on Yuuri next and the person who was supposed to ask him was Mila.

“Dare” he raised a brow defyingly and Mila grinned.

“Kiss the person next to you.”

A ripple of jeering laughter ran through the group. Next to Victor, Yuuri drew perfectly still. The joke seemed to be that Yuuri was sandwiched between Phichit and Victor, and Mila hadn’t simply dared him to kiss someone like a fifth grader, she was making him choose. The choices were: not-single but gay best friend or single but straight… other friend. 

The good thing was, Victor wasn’t sober so he didn’t throw a fit at the mere suggestion like he might have if he were.

The bad thing was, drunk Victor noticed how cute Yuuri’s mouth looked and didn’t stop to think about sober Victor before he kissed it.

When he pulled away, Yuuri’s mouth was still open in shock.

“That isn’t fair!” Mila declared. “Victor made the choice for him, it doesn’t count! Yuuri didn’t even move his mouth!”

Victor was just turning to tell Mila off because a kiss was a kiss was a kiss was a… except he felt fingers close around the collar of his shirt and he was pulled back in.

… _oh_

Now this was a kiss.

By the time, it ended, Victor had forgotten how to breathe, or look away from the adorably blushing boy beside him.

Victor had started to lean in again when someone began making gagging noises, and he pulled away. That really did sound funny.

The game moved on, without Victor it seemed… because he couldn’t take his eyes off of Yuuri. Kissing was fun, and that sounded like a revelation, for some reason.

Kissing was always fun. Everyone knew that.

Except it wasn’t but now it was, but the moment that thought occurred to Victor it vanished.

Instead, Victor tugged on Yuuri’s arm to draw his attention to himself. He was still blushing, which was very cute.

“I think you should do the Salsa now.” Victor nodded.

Yuuri laughed.

“Alright then.” He said and Victor stared. Maybe Yuuri wasn’t all that sober, either, after all. Had he secretly lost Red Hand and they never found out? And he had drunk all the alcohol so now they were playing Spin the Bottle because it didn’t need alcohol.

“I am Sherlock.” Victor said.

“Okay.”

It took Yuuri a minute to compose himself and stand up. He offered Victor his hand which Victor gladly took, and despite the complaints of their friends that they were leaving mid-game, they walked away from the sofas and headed out through the hallway into the game room that was supposed to be the dance floor.

Except Victor saw that the door to Mila’s parents bedroom was ajar.

Except Victor had an amazing idea.

He dragged Yuuri inside, and the boy followed after a token demand to be told why Victor had just locked them inside the master bedroom.

They stared at each other, the dim light from the single lit lamp casting a soft glow across half of their bodies. Despite the party raging just outside, the room seemed quiet to Victor, like every outside force had unanimously refused to distract Victor from how gorgeous Yuuri looked, flushed and adorably confused.

“Victor?” He asked, tilting his head a little. Come morning, Victor would like to imagine a part of him was telling him to stop, that this wasn’t right.

That would be a lie.

In that moment, all of Victor knew without a doubt, that reaching for Yuuri what he was always meant to do.

Yuuri must have read the shift in his body language, because the next moment, his arms were around Victor, and his mouth pressed to the side of Victor’s neck. Victor groaned and grabbed Yuuri’s hips, before his hands grew a mind of their own and trailed over to his butt. Yuuri canted backwards into Victor’s touch and Victor pulled away, only to kiss Yuuri again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update guys. I broke my finger, yada yada. You already know if you're following my Tumblr. 
> 
> Also, I am really sorry I wasn't able to reply to comments on time. I am going to get to them ASAP :*

Yuuri woke up alone in a strange bedroom, with a pounding in his head and his throat feeling like the Sahara.

It didn’t take him too long to realise he didn’t remember a lot about how he got there, either.

He groaned and tried to sit up, the contacts still in his eyes from last night burning with wicked vengeance. Yuuri cursed, and tried to feel around in his jeans pockets for his specs case, which he always carried on himself.

Finding the smooth plastic box, Yuuri nearly cried with relief, before finally daring to open his eyes fully and remove the lenses. He tossed them in the case, knowing they would need to be discarded now, and placed his glasses on his nose.

Even with the hurtful contacts out, his eyes still teared up with pain. He needed to find a sink to wash them, and get back to the dorms as soon as possible for his eye drops.

Slowly, Yuuri rose to his feet, arms spread out on both sides because his head felt heavy enough for him to believe toppling right over was a very real possibility right now. He hissed at the throbbing in his skull, ran a hand over his face and then started sifting in his pockets for his mobile phone, eyes scanning the bedroom for an exit meanwhile.

He saw the cherry-wood door soon enough, but not before he felt his eyes widen in admiration at the room he was in.

It was clearly the master bedroom, and it had been done up in warm shades of reds, browns and golden. Sunlight filtered in through the drawn, but thin, beige curtains, making the room look like it belonged to some elfish royalty from a fantasy book. His eyes landed on a gilded photo frame of an elderly (albeit fashionable) black couple posing with the Taj Mahal in the background. Yuuri wondered if they were Mila’s parents. He definitely had never met them or any of her family members before.

Fast on the heels of that thought, came the realisation that he _really_ shouldn’t be in this room.

Quickly, he booked it out of that room, only to run headfirst into someone passing right outside the door.

Yuuri let out a shamefully high-pitched squeal, and fell back on his butt into the room, the impact having pushed the half-closed door open again.

“I am sorry-…”

“Jesus! I told Mila this room was off-limits, god! Why the fuck were you in there?”

Despite the vitriol in the words, the voice of the speaker remained calm and measured. A hand was thrust forward, and instinctively, Yuuri shied away. The girl, for Yuuri could now see he had bumped into a tall girl with the most kickass pink cornrows he had ever seen, merely shrugged.

“Sorry. I don’t really remember going in myself. I must have been trashed.” Yuuri stood up and brushed himself off of dirt the room was too pretty to be accused of accumulating. 

The girl hummed.

“Clearly. Your eyes are redder than her hair. Do you need to wash them? Or an ice pack or something?”

Yuuri shook his head.

“I just left my contacts in all night. I mean, I _am_ hungover but that’s not what’s behind the redness.”

There was silence for a few seconds before she turned around.

“Come with me. You can use my eye drops. It’s dangerous to leave that alone.”

Yuuri’s eyes were burning too much for him to even consider denying he needed help. With a sigh, he followed the girl as she headed upstairs.

“Umm, where’s Mila?”, he questioned.

“In her room. She was up hungover as fuck trying to clean the house when I got back this morning and I put her to bed. That kid is too independent. Still doesn’t understand the biggest perk of having a family is someone always who has your back when you’re down.”

The sentence drew a smile from Yuuri, his mind jumping back months in time to the last few days he spent with his parents, and then to his sister, only a few miles away from him. He had taken incredibly long to learn to rely on his own family, too even though he had always known they would be there for him no matter what.

Unprecedented, his thoughts raced to Victor, then, and Victor’s family. From what little he knew, he doubted Victor had the same steadfast support system as he or Mila did.

“Who are you?” The girl asked, as they turned on the landing and went up another flight of stairs. “I don’t think I’ve ever met you before.”

“I am Yuuri. I just recently began hanging out with Mila. We’re not very close, we just have common friends.” And then, after a beat, “Who are you? I am guessing you’re Mila’s sister.”

“Right-o. Name’s Ester. I am the same age as Mila.”

“Oh. You don’t go to our school, though.” Yuuri muttered, as he pulled out his phone and brought up his group chat with Phichit and JJ.

_‘I am at Mila’s. Be back when I get my eyes to stop burning.’_

  * before moving to his text thread with Mari. 



_‘Need a ride. You free?’_

  * and then he went to Victor’s. 



_‘Hi. Alive?’_

“Yeah, no, I finished school a year ago. Needless to say, I am smarter than you.”

Ester threw him a cocky little smirk from over her shoulder as she opened the door to what Yuuri supposed was her room. Yuuri almost rolled his eyes but remembered just in time that they were hurting like a bitch and exaggerated movements won’t help his case.

“I hope you’re not basing my intellect on this morning’s display. I don’t make a habit of passing out dead drunk in schoolmates’ parents’ bedrooms with my contacts left in like a fool, you know.”

Ester scoffed and directed Yuuri to her large, queen-sized bed. Her room was white, with silver highlights on furniture and stuff and it had a bunch of plants. The entirely too soft vibe seemed to be at direct odds with Ester’s no-nonsense personality, pink hair and punk getup. 

She reached for the top drawer in her bedside table, all the while muttering:

“Passing out dead drunk in schoolmates’ parents’ bedrooms with contacts left in after a wild night of going at it like rabbits in the same schoolmate’s parents’ bedroom, you mean.”

Yuuri frowned.

Ester straightened, taking a step closer to him with a small bottle of eye-drop liquid clutched in her hand.

With a brow raised, she surveyed Yuuri’s neck.

“I have to say, though, whoever you were boning last night must have been trying their best to eat you up. You’re going to need a whole bottle of concealer to hide those on Monday.”

Instinctively, Yuuri’s hand flew to his neck. The disbelieving expression in his eyes made Ester clamp her mouth shut.

A couple of awkwardly silent seconds later, she held out the eye-drop bottle to a stunned Yuuri.

“You don’t remember fucking anyone either, do you?” When Yuuri still didn’t respond, she winced in sympathy, awkwardly patting his head like Yuuri remembered Mari used to.

“I am just gonna give you a minute. The washroom is straight through that door. Fresh face towels are in the first drawer of my cabinet. I will be downstairs, changing the parents’ bedsheets, if you need me.”

The moment Ester was out of the room, Yuuri was scrambling into the washroom. With disbelieving eyes, he took in his throat and collarbones.

There were more hickeys on there than Yuuri could count and a few imprints of teeth as well. Ester was right, his partner must have been trying to gobble him whole.

Eyes stinging with tears of pain, Yuuri let out a flurry of curses. Waking up in a room after a party with no memory of how you got there was one thing, but to think he had been drunkenly making out _(at least)_ with someone was a big fucking deal. To him, it was.

… and if Yuuri was honest with himself the marks dotting his neck seemed too furious to imagine they had stopped at just that.

Quickly, Yuuri stripped his clothes off, surveying his body for more marks but contrary to his suspicions, the marks stopped around the top of his chest. There were more on the back on his neck and shoulders, but they didn’t go all that lower either. He didn’t feel sore anywhere, and his underwear wasn’t soiled.

It didn’t _seem_ like he had sex, which was good but not nearly as good as the scenario where all of this was a dream and the worst that had happened at the party was Victor finally convinced him to do the salsa.

Memory jolted, somewhat and hoping Victor had some idea who Yuuri had been making out with, he reached for his phone in the pocket of his discarded jeans.

He was about to call Victor when he noticed he had locked the phone without exiting his text thread with Victor and the screen showed that his text had been read.

No reply had come, though.

Frowning, Yuuri went back to his group chat with his roommates. Phichit’s only acknowledgement of his text was a thumbs up emoticon while JJ had been sending paragraphs about some fight he had managed to get in as early, Yuuri confirmed from the top of his screen, 11:30 in the morning. Not bothering to read JJ’s nonsense, Yuuri typed:

_‘Do you knwo who I was makin out with last night?’_

As expected, that message roused Phichit from whatever hungover stupor he must have been suffering from, for his replies started pinging in seconds later.

_‘!!!!!!’_

_‘Damn girl go get it’_

_‘idk though’_

_‘you already know I would have recorded if I knew that was happening’_

_‘HOW DID IT HAPPEN THO?????’_

_‘Katsuki the whore- out breaking hearts again. Doesn’t even remember who’s he shattered this time.’_

_‘New low, sir. New low. I respect.’_

_‘My news is that I somehow got Chris to autograph my butt.’_

_‘His signature is on my butt.’_

_‘And now I can’t take a shower.’_

Phichit was helpful in only so much that he startled a laugh out of Yuuri, but just then it seemed to be what he was more desperately in need of than answers. There was tension steadily building in Yuuri’s chest, and he realised as nice as Ester had been, he needed to get out of this house.

He moved over to check Mari’s response to his message.

_‘Ofc. Address?’_

With a sigh of relief, Yuuri sent Mari his location, and then got to redressing himself. Once done, he sat back at Ester’s table, and put the eyedrops in and closed his eyes.

All he could do now, was wait for Mari to arrive and hope with all his might that he won’t have to face Ester before that. Through the confusion of the morning, Yuuri hadn’t failed to notice that she was very pretty, as well as confident and helpful. Clearly smart, too. She was exactly his type and now that the rush of morning was wearing off, the embarrassment was setting in.

This is definitely _not_ how he would have liked to meet a girl like her for the first time.

With burning cheeks, Yuuri tried to distract himself from everything. Her study desk had made it clear that she was in med school and there was no real reason a university going girl of her looks and wit would look twice at someone like him, anyway so what even was the point? All he needed to do was get out of the house, pester Mari to buy him the overpriced coffee he would never buy for himself, regroup with his idiots at the dorm and launch a nation-wide search for the vampire he had caught the interest of last night.

He at least hoped whoever she was, she would be nice enough to not make fun of Yuuri for whatever undoubtedly embarrassing shit he must’ve pulled last night.

Then, he got to wondering if he himself was a biter when drunk. Did her neck look just as bad as his did? That only caused his blush to deepen.

His phone began ringing nearly fifteen minutes later, and Yuuri lifted it to his ears without opening his eyes.

“Hello.” He croaked out.

“Hey, bro. I am outside.”

The familiar voice of his sister was immediately welcome. Yuuri heaved a huge sigh of relief. 

“Be right there.”

He kept the call on as he opened his eyes. Ester’s eye drops were more effective than his. The burn had very nearly disappeared. Blinking to clear his vision, Yuuri snapped a picture of the label on the bottle to buy it for himself later.

He moved through the house in search of Ester, and began appreciating how big the house was for the first time since he came in here last night. The couple he had seen in the picture in the master bedroom reappeared in photo frames throughout the house, surrounded by a number of teenagers and kids. Yuuri wondered if all of Mila’s siblings were adopted, or if they were just a huge foster family but quickly shook the intrusive thoughts from his mind.

He found Ester in the kitchen, dragging a black trash bag around with her as she scooped discarded beer cups and paper plates off the floor and dumped them inside. A tall, brown-haired man that Yuuri had seen in some of the photo frames stood to the side, scrubbing the kitchen counter free of spots Yuuri couldn’t make out from his position.

“Umm…” he began and two pairs of dark brown and grey eyes lifted to find him immediately. Yuuri stuttered, because it was honestly starting to seem like Mila’s entire family was made up of ridiculously good-looking people.

“Yuuri, this is Jace. My oldest brother. Had to call him to come help me out with this shit. Parents will be home by evening.” Ester explained.

Jace grinned at Yuuri.

“We were going to order sandwiches. Will you stay for a bite? Mila will be downstairs by the time they arrive.”

“No, actually I just came to say good-bye and thank you.” Yuuri nodded at Ester. “My sister is outside and I need to get back to the dorms before people notice I am gone.”

“Some other time, then.” Jace grinned with the false disappointment of someone being polite but not actually keen on your company. Ester, however, and it warmed Yuuri’s heart to see, seemed genuinely disappointed.

They said their goodbyes and Yuuri jogged out of the house, taking a deep breath of the fresh air outside with cartoonish eagerness. He could see Mari rolling her eyes as she watched from inside her car.

“It’s not like you to spend the night at a stranger’s house.” Mari said as Yuuri buckled the seat belt in. Yuuri felt his cheeks grow hot with shame.

“It wasn’t a stranger. It was a friend and I wasn’t there alone. It was a full party.”

Except Mila _was_ practically a stranger and this party _was_ one he had only come to because Victor kept pestering him about it.

Only to leave him all alone there, and then refuse to answer his messages.

Yuuri hoped Victor was deathly hungover and completely out of his senses, because otherwise he was gonna be pissed.

“And did you have fun?”

Yuuri shrugged. From what little he could remember, it hadn’t been too bad.

“Were you safe?”

Yuuri groaned, and pinned Mari with a glare that only made her smirk.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone and I don’t even remember who gave me these.” He pointed to his neck, as if anyone could miss the angry red marks.

Mari whistled.

“Don’t mention it again.” He warned and Mari nodded.

A couple minutes of silent driving later, she asked.

“Do you need me to stop by a make-up store to buy some concealer?”

With pouting lips and blushing cheeks, Yuuri nodded.

Mari only laughed, the bitch.

…

Some Advil, two fancy coffees that Mari with her hotshot-management-firm-job did not begrudge Yuuri _at all_ and a trip to an overpriced cosmetics store with a giggly server later, Yuuri finally returned to the wasteland that was his dorm room after a night of heavy drinking. As was expected, both Phichit and JJ were in bed (despite the fact that the latter had somehow been awake enough to start drama with a junior just an hour ago). The room looked like a storm had passed through it and the groans rumbling in Phichit’s chest almost made Yuuri feel sorry for him.

Almost.

They _had_ left him back at Mila’s, after all.

So he stomped over to the window, as loudly as he could, and noisily drew the curtains open.

Vehement protests rose immediately and Yuuri bit back his grin as he stashed his newly purchased concealer in his dresser drawer. The saleswoman had said it was ‘full-coverage’, whatever that meant. It was not like Yuuri even knew how to apply it. He was going to have to ask either Phichit or Isabella for help.

“I can’t believe you two left me there all alone.” Yuuri crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the lumps under blanket that were his roommates. Phichit started mumbling something while JJ just demanded Yuuri close the curtains. Taking pity on the suffering individuals, he did, but he wasn’t planning on letting up on the interrogation.

“Mortal danger to either of your lives is the only acceptable justification behind a betrayal like this, I hope you know.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes when neither of them surfaced form their blanket hideouts. Deciding to leave JJ alone for the time being, and tackle one problem at a time, he dropped down on Phichit’s bunk.

The boy groaned loudly and tried to huddle further into his blankets. Yuuri wasn’t having it, however, and despite the trouble he had finding the edge of the blanket he dragged it away from Phichit, bundling it into a rough blob and sitting on it to block Phichit’s blindly flailing hands.

“ _How_ could you leave me alone?” He drawled out, making sure to keep his voice light-hearted, probably because he was starting to realise he was actually hurt about this. What had happened this morning was humiliating, despite how nice the Babicheva siblings had been. To top it all off, he had no idea how he’d been making out with and he was convinced all of that could’ve been avoided if JJ and Phichit had just tried to be decent humans for once in their lives.

“You disappeared with Victor hours before any of us left! Plus, I was smashed. I don’t even know who drove us back!” Phichit whined and Yuuri mindlessly batted his hands away, brain struggling to re-align his blame game charts in light of this new information.

He needed to get a hold of Victor, because he honestly seemed like the only person with any real idea of who Yuuri had made out with.

…

Victor was… for lack of a better term, _ignoring_ Yuuri.

He hadn’t responded to his texts or taken his calls and the ‘must be sleeping in’ excuse had very nearly retired now given it was nearing seven in the evening.

“What the fuck is wrong with him, now?” Yuuri muttered. In the back of his mind, his righteous indignation had melted into a repetitive pool of _‘stupid Yuuri must have said something stupid to Victor while drunk and now Victor will never talk to you again’_ and that… wasn’t very helpful.

Well, neither was obsessively waiting for Victor to call back, though.

Yuuri glared at JJ when he pointed that out and returned to refreshing his messages.

“Listen, I am sure it’s nothing.” JJ tried to reassure him. “If it’s any help Victor hasn’t responded to me either. Maybe he has tons of homework pending or he’s busy otherwise or he’s dead in a ditch somewhere-…”

“ _How_ is that a better option?!”

“I am just saying, it could be a hundred things before him getting unreasonably upset at a clearly intoxicated you. Plus, you’re going to see him in school tomorrow, anyways.”

That… was terrifying.

Yuuri’s anger and embarrassment had melted away to leave space for hurt and fear. He didn’t understand why Victor was ignoring him, was deathly afraid it was because of something he, himself had said and had no way of confirming either which was less public or less distant than in front of the whole school, tomorrow. It was driving him insane.

“I don’t even remember the last thing I said to him. The last thing I remember is Yuri forbidding Chris from taking off his clothes but even that is a hazy memory which is funny because I don’t even remember drinking that much.”

From his peripheral vision, Yuuri watched JJ get up from his own bed and drop onto Yuuri’s. He was frowning.

“You drank a lot during that game, but do you honest to god remember nothing after Yuri daring Chris to keep his clothes on?”

“Oh! That was what it was!” Yuuri paused, letting himself pour over this more likely version of his broken memory and trying to figure out if it triggered the rest of the lost ones.

“No, I definitely don’t remember anything else.”

“Not even when Victor kissed you?”

Yuuri could _feel_ his eyes bulging out.

“Come to think of it,” JJ carried on “The two of you disappeared soon after that. You just got up and left and I guess all of us were too out of it to look for either of you before we left and-…”

“No! _Hold up!”_ Yuuri seemed unable to pick his jaw up off the floor.

“Victor kissed me?”

“Yeah” JJ said like Yuuri’s entire world hadn’t just been knocked askew. “The stories still might be up on Sara’s Snap, wait.”

They were and Yuuri watched that clip of Victor kissing him and then him kissing Victor so many times over and over again that JJ started squirming with discomfort.

“I have a hack to download someone’s snap story, if you want.” He suggested and barely mindful of what he was doing, Yuuri handed JJ’s phone back to him.

“Do you think this is what he is pissed about?”

Yuuri scoffed.

“ _He_ kissed _me.”_

Yuuri had always been great at getting over shock and hurtling headfirst into panic, but he felt strangely calm about this. A stupid little drunken kiss as it was, it seemed strangely final, like he had never really had much say in how it came about. Maybe it was because he had been drunk, or because it was already in the past. He couldn’t tell. All he knew was he wasn’t panicking and that was something to celebrate, not question.

“Yeah, but then _you_ kissed _him._ ” JJ pointed out.

“Which he didn’t seem too mad about.” 

The door of their dorm room was thrown open them, interrupting, and consequently ending the conversation right there. A harried-looking, on-the-verge-of-tears Phichit came stomping in and Yuuri was immediately on his feet.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Phichit threw his arms around Yuuri, tightening his grip till Yuuri nearly felt crushed.

“What happened?” JJ inquired. “I thought you went out on a walk with Seung-Gil?”

Phichit didn’t say anything, but he didn’t let go of Yuuri either, not for a good five minutes. When he finally did, he looked way calmer. Yuuri indicated for JJ to sit beside Phichit while he went about fixing him some coffee, anyway.

“I just- I am so stupid.” He finally said.

“Lies.” JJ immediately protested. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“Just out of curiosity,” Phichit grinned, a hint of humour returning to his gaze at JJ’s passionate declaration. “Are you the smartest person you know?”

“Obviously not,” JJ said. “Bella. But that’s not the point and don’t think you can distract me, either. What happened?”

Phichit sighed.

“It’s really nothing. You know how I always make a big deal out of nothing? It’s just that. I mean, look at how I barged in here. Nothing that extreme even happened.”

Abandoning the coffee preparation for the time being, Yuuri turned to Phichit.

“We’ll decide how extreme it was for ourselves. Just spit it out, Peach.”

“I blew up on Seung-Gil over nothing.”

It was rare for Phichit to resort to Yuuri-speak which was just a convenient term for personal-belittlement and self-gaslighting that Yuuri was prone to when he was having an exceptionally bad episode, so to see Phichit talk that way about himself made Yuuri feel jarred.

“You had an argument with Seung-Gil. Kind language, Phichit. That’s what you always say to us.” JJ reminded Phichit and it was always moments like these when Yuuri felt extremely grateful for JJ. He was way more articulate than Yuuri ever would be.

“He was just worried about how drunk I got last night, especially when he wasn’t even there to look out for me and he was trying to get me to see how careless I had been and telling me I can’t keep doing that and I just- I don’t know why I felt so attacked. I overreacted and stormed away like a two year old and god, this is going to be so much more difficult to sort out now.” Phichit rambled.

JJ and Yuuri exchanged a glance.

“Did you overreact or did he tell you that you were overreacting?” Yuuri asked.

Phichit rolled his eyes.

“I was there, Yuuri. You weren’t.”

“You’re a pretty level-headed guy. If you felt attacked, it was probably not for nothing. I just don’t understand why he needs to give you such hell over a mistake nearly everyone here has made before.”

“And Mila and you are such close friends! It wasn’t like you were alone, there either!” JJ chimed in.

“How would you feel if your boyfriend was out partying the entire night and couldn’t even remember who brought him back home? Thank fuck, I didn’t mention Chris’ fucking signature on my butt! I have no idea how that one would have ended.”

They tried to explain to Phichit how Seung-Gil’s behaviour seemed iffy at best, but Phichit was convinced he was to blame. Yuuri was starting to think it was more because of his guilt about the signature thing than any real fault of his in the argument he had had with Seung-Gil. Yuuri was also starting to realise it was futile to try to argue with Phichit so he let it go.

He was distracted by all of his own issues, soon enough, anyway.

Hours later, Yuuri found himself in bed, staring blankly at Victor’s chat box which showed no new replies, and felt his eyes cloud with tears. He almost sent Victor a teary voice-note, demanding to be told why he was being ignored. He was confused and unnerved and he needed his friend to tell him it’d be fine, and not to mention, help him find the person he had later made out with, as well. Victor wasn’t responding though and as dismissive as Yuuri had been of JJ’s suggestion, he was starting to believe it _was_ because of that stupid game.

Right there and then, Yuuri decided he would tell Victor the next day that they could forget all about it if he wanted. They would never talk about it again. If Victor was honestly so disgusted by the idea of kissing Yuuri he didn’t have to remember he had, he just needed to stop ignoring Yuuri, so they could go back to being friends.

With a deep breath, Yuuri dried his eyes, plugged his phone in and told himself he was going to sleep. He needed rest, and that became obvious when he found himself on the edge of dreamland mere seconds after putting his phone away.

Even with the shit storm that the day had been and despite the scared ache in his heart, he still couldn’t help wondering, as he drifted off to sleep, how it must have felt to kiss Victor.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you thought.
> 
> Come scream at me about YOI on [my side blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ice-malice) that is specifically about YOI or [my main blog](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/shamelessllamapeanutthing)


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